Release
by Trish47
Summary: Complete! EO. Elliot goes to the gym to clear his mind, but when Olivia turns up he finds that near impossible. Drama ensues. Smut is here! Post-Wildlife. Reviews greatly appreciated. Enjoy!
1. Blown Away

**A/N: Okay here is another post-Wildlife fic, but I think it is different enough to be posted. Just a few things to note:**

**1.) This mostly deals with Elliot and Olivia after their "encounter" so ignore Kathy in the beginning. I couldn't write it without her in there, but she's just there to create conflict.**

**2.) If you're questioning why Elliot's working out two days after being shot, or if it's even possible, please chalk it up to artistic liberties. (That and I personally think Elliot likes to push himself to the limit sometimes.)Thanks in advance for understanding. :)**

**3.)Lastly, this might not be a one-shot. That's all up to you reviewers! Please tell me what you think and if I should continue.**

**Thanks! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If they were mine Wildlife would have gone a lot differently. As it is, I can only play with them after the fact because Mr. Wolf doesn't like to share.**

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**Release**

"Where are you going?" Kathy's voice was demanding despite having just woken up.

Elliot grimaced and shoved his legs into a pair of old sweatpants. He'd tried not to wake her. He'd tried to avoid the question she'd just asked. Couldn't she have let him go without that accusing tone just this once?

"Elliot?"

He sighed. Arguing with her now was bound to start a fight, something he didn't need. He needed release from all the thoughts stewing in his mind. If Kathy chose to pick a fight now he'd blow up at her and it would officially mark the end of their marriage.

"Shh, you'll wake him up," Elliot said, still sounding irritable although he tried to keep it from his voice. Eli had just gone back to sleep after twenty minutes of rocking in his father's sore arms.

"Elliot it's three in the morning. Where the hell are you going?" Her initial grogginess had dissipated.

"Where do you think?" he snapped.

She was quiet for several moments, but Elliot didn't regret his quick retort.

He sighed again as he pulled on a white wife beater and a NYPD sweatshirt. A stab of pain ran up his shoulder and across his chest from the movement, but he ignored it. He didn't want his wife to feel concerned for him. That was if she even cared enough to worry about him.

"I got called in," he lied.

"I didn't hear your phone ring," Kathy stated, her disbelief evident.

"Why do you have to question everything I do?" he asked as he stuffed his feet into his shoes. He was getting angry. "I got _called_ in."

"You're supposed to be on sick leave for a week," she reminded him, sitting up in bed and crossing her arms.

"Yeah, well, shit happens," he mumbled, not feeling the need to explain himself.

"You're not exactly dressed for the office," Kathy reasoned.

"For the love of God," Elliot muttered under his breath. He turned to his wife and added, "Just drop it. I'll call you later to let you know when I'll be home." He knew he wouldn't, but there was still a sense of duty compelling him to say the words.

"Don't bother," Kathy spat at him. Before Elliot could respond she had gotten out of bed and shut herself up in the bathroom, closing the door with such force that Elliot thought his son would start screaming again. Thankfully, he stayed asleep.

Not caring to decode Kathy's statement, Elliot grabbed his coat, badge, phone and keys and headed for the precinct.

***

The gym was dead. Except for the security at the front desk, the place was empty. Elliot usually liked having the space to himself. It let him think and evaluate difficult situations. Many of his cases had been solved while he pounded dent marks into the punching bag. But tonight the emptiness consumed him and his thoughts assaulted him like the bullets that had entered his body two days earlier.

He slammed his taped fist into the side of the hanging bag. Elliot grunted at the pain that coursed through his upper body but he also reveled in it. The pain pushed all other thoughts from his mind. Even when he punched with his right arm, the aftershocks sent waves of discomfort through his torso.

But the blinding pain wasn't what stopped him from exerting his frustrations on the swinging bag after just a few hits. Each punch reverberated in his ears like Bushido banging on the door of his pseudo-apartment. And then Olivia's face jumped to the forethought of his brain. The fear and panic in her eyes was unforgettable.

Elliot groaned with different kinds of agony as he rested his forehead against the bag. He knew Olivia had been terrified; he had been too. But, in the end it had been Olivia who had saved both of their asses. She was the one who was able to keep a level head and come up with a plausible excuse for her presence. Elliot had simply stood there, barley able to come up with the lines necessary to play along with her clever charade.

He could blame it on her beautiful body all he wanted, but the truth was that he had been so terrified that something would happen to her he wasn't able to think straight. Then again, her body hadn't helped him think clearly either.

"What did I say?" he asked the barren walls as he moved over to the bench press. "'Guy's gotta eat?'" He chuckled at his own pathetic phrase.

"I've gotta say that's one of the lamest things a guy's said to me when I'm half naked and rubbing myself all over him."

Elliot nearly dropped the weighted bar on top of himself when he heard her voice.

Olivia's smile widened when she saw her partner struggle to replace the weights in their holding bar. She couldn't tell if he was blushing or if his face was red from the workout.

"Shouldn't you be home getting a mandatory rest?" she asked as she approached him.

His face immediately hardened. "I couldn't sleep."

As much as she wanted to ask if he had talked to Kathy, she decided not to press it. She didn't want to hear how they had or hadn't patched things up anyway. The former would only depress her and the latter would allow her mind to wander to formerly forbidden topics.

"So you decided to come here and tear your stitches open instead?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Elliot looked down at the white gauze pads that covered his healing wounds. Bright red blood stained the dressings. He hadn't even noticed. The pain had become inconsequential.

When he looked back up Olivia was standing directly in front of him. Her proximity was just as intoxicating as it had been with her body pressed flush against him in that bedroom. Even being in the same building as her was enough to get him hot and bothered.

For years he had been able to control his desire for his partner, but starting the moment she emerged from the bathroom topless that had all changed. Her half-naked image would forever be burned into his eyelids. But he wasn't complaining.

"Sit," she ordered, pushing down on his good shoulder with slight pressure. He melted onto the bench beneath him, swinging one leg over so that there was one on both sides.

The pure heat emanating off Elliot washed over Olivia and caused her blood pressure to rise. She remembered how hot his skin had been against her own flesh. Their bodies could have provided all the warmth they'd need to get through the winter.

Olivia stepped across the room to retrieve the first-aid kit, trying to push those thoughts away.

She straddled the bench Elliot was sitting on and saw him shift back, moving away from her. His eyes fell to her open legs and it was Olivia's turn to blush. She knew what he was thinking because her mind was in the same fantasy world. She could practically feel her thighs resting on top of his as he moved beneath her. Although her blush deepened at the thought, she refused to shy away from him. She smiled and eyed the wife beater he was sporting.

"You gonna take that off or am I gonna have to do it for you?" She gave him her most flirtatious smile and fingered the hem of his shirt.

Did she really just hit on him? She hadn't meant to, it just slipped out.

Elliot recoiled again, but his back hit the bar of the bench press and he couldn't go any farther. Olivia scooted forward until their knees were touching, effectively cornering him. She gave him a pointed look that told him she wasn't going to ask twice.

"Liv…I-I can ch-change my own bandages," he stammered. He was cute when he was flustered and Olivia couldn't help but smirk.

She held up the gauze and tape in her hands. "Well, seeing as I've got the kit, you're either going to have to fight me or stop being so stubborn." Olivia let her gaze move from his eyes to his shoulder and her smirk turned devious. "And I'm _not_ below fighting an injured man. Especially you."

Elliot smiled at her insistence and tried to relax, but his partner's next actions completely thwarted his attempts. Olivia bent forward until her lips grazed against his ear. He had to bite his lip to keep back a groan. The scent of her shampoo tickled his nose and did dangerous things to his mind.

"Take it _off_ Stabler."

When she backed away Elliot had to fight the urge to grab her and do something foolish. Like kiss her. Never had a command been so arousing. He followed her order, unable to keep back a grunt of pain.

Once the shirt was discarded Elliot waited for Olivia to make some snide remark about how bad he looked. But her eyes surprised him. Remorse filled the brown pools and he felt compelled to reassure her that he was okay.

"Liv—"

He choked on his words as she reached out and slowly peeled off the bandage from his bicep. It was the smaller of the two wounds, but it still looked unpleasant. The circular hole was seeping blood and was surrounded by a large black and blue mark barely hidden by the gauze.

"Oh Elliot…"she whispered and he swore there were tears in her eyes.

Her fingers trembled as she traced the outline of the wound and then the surrounding bruise. Her touch was so soft that Elliot wasn't even sure she _was_ touching him. It felt like her fingers were floating above his skin and brushing the tiny hairs on his arm. Still, the tenderness she was showing caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

"I'm sorry." The words were hardly audible, but Elliot heard them as clear as he heard his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"Don't be," was all he could manage.

Olivia stopped her hands and looked back to his eyes. A small smile played on his lips and it infuriated her beyond all reason. This was not a laughing matter. It wasn't humorous in the remotest sense.

"How can you say that? I got you shot," she said, her voice still hoarse from emotion despite her spike of anger.

Elliot's eyes softened and she couldn't look at him directly. She looked down at the small stretch of bench between them. The soft leather pad was cracked from use and had a tear showing the cotton filling. She fingered the stuffing while trying to hold back her tears.

"You did _not_ get me shot," he told her gently.

"Yes I did."

He knew her guilty conscience wouldn't back down, so—instead of trying to convince her she was wrong—he did the next best thing that he could think of.

"Fine then. I forgive you."

Her head snapped up so fast that he thought she might have given herself whiplash.

"What?" she said breathlessly.

"I forgive you."

She shook her head. "Don't you realize what could've happened?"

"Yes."

Olivia looked at him like she didn't believe him. "Y-you could've…died. Because of me."

"You're the reason I'm alive."

"You're missing the point," she informed him, anger lacing her words.

"No, you are."

Olivia felt she didn't deserve his forgiveness. He could have died that night and it would have been all her fault. She couldn't get past that. She didn't think she ever would.

Elliot reached between them and took her hands in his, squeezing them to show her he was sincere in his sentiments. He wasn't sure how he wanted to get rid of the pout on her face; it was between reassuring her and kissing her senseless. His own guilty conscience forced him to do the former.

"Olivia," Elliot began, waiting until she met his eyes, "I don't want you to blame yourself for any of this. If you hadn't come, I might be dead right now."

"How do you come to that conclusion?" she interjected, looking truly confused.

He let a small smile flash in her direction. "C'mon let's face it. I'm horrible at undercover gigs. Bushido would've figured it out and shot me eventually."

Although her complexion paled slightly at the possibility she diffused a little.

"Yeah, you _are_ pretty crappy at faking it," she agreed.

He laughed and Olivia let herself chuckle too. The tense moment had passed and they were back on familiar ground.

"Sorry if I can't come up with snappy comments on the spot," Elliot remarked, letting go of her hands.

She truly laughed then. His heartbeat increased, his chest swelling with the enchanting sound. "Seriously El, 'Guy's gotta eat?' What _were_ you thinking?"

He didn't want to tell her exactly what he had been thinking when he'd said that, but his cheeks felt heated again. Instead of answering he turned the tables on her. "Well where'd you learn to play such a convincing hooker?" he teased.

She punched him lightly on his good arm and winked at him. "Wouldn't you like to know," she shot right back, that devilish grin returning. "Now let me fix you up."

Olivia tried to grab the other bandage, but Elliot stopped her. "That one's worse," he warned.

His hand circling her wrist addled her brain, but she pushed through the hazy thoughts to form a response. "I'm prepared," she told him seriously.

He shook his head. "No, I don't want you to relapse into Guilty Benson."

She glared at him. "Then I'll make it quick so that doesn't happen," she retorted.

Without further warning Olivia grabbed the corner of the gauze and ripped off the bandage in one swift motion. Elliot's grip on her wrist tightened with the shock from the pain, but he was quick to recover.

"Christ Liv!" he swore under his breath.

Olivia suppressed a laugh. "I never said it would be quick _and_ painless. Just quick."

She didn't want to cause him pain but she had a feeling that he was embellishing. His eyes weren't glazed with pain or anger. He actually looked amused.

"You're gonna pay for that," he said as he rotated his shoulder to try and shrug off the lingering sting.

"I'll just deduct it from what you owe me for my services on Tuesday night," she told him as she looked over his other wound. Her smile faded quickly.

Elliot was right, this one was worse. The bruise was angrier than the one on his bicep which was probably caused by his workout and the other physical activities he wasn't supposed to be performing. She went to work on his shoulder wound, gently cleaning the area with a wet cloth she had dampened with water from his bottle.

Once the blood was wiped away she took the bottle of peroxide from the kit and shook it in front of him. He was watching her with an unreadable expression. "This might sting," she cautioned.

"Go ahead."

She would have done it with or without his permission. Olivia poured a small amount over the wound, catching the runoff that ran down his bare chest with the bloodied cloth. He hissed in response.

"Oh stop being such a baby," she laughed.

"Well, next time you're injured I'm gonna pour peroxide on your open wounds and see if you like it," he joked. He'd never wish harm on her and she knew it.

"Deal," she told him, pouring more of the clear liquid on his skin. The bubbles intrigued her.

"Aren't you done yet?" he asked with a slight grimace.

She caught his expression and her smile grew. "Elliot it doesn't hurt that much. And it's still bubbling so it's not done cleaning."

"Fine," he huffed.

Olivia tipped the bottle again. This time as the cleaning agent fizzed around the hole Olivia bent forward and blew on the area. Elliot tensed underneath her as she continued to blow a steady stream of air over the stitched bullet hole.

"Better?" she asked after taking a much needed breath.

He nodded slightly, unable to take his eyes off of his beautiful partner.

"Good," she exclaimed before repeating the process for the wound on his bicep.

She put fresh gauze over his injuries and taped them in place. Olivia noticed a trail of peroxide that had escaped the cloth barrier. It ran down the front of Elliot's bare chest before disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Elliot's head was spinning. Olivia's treatment was driving him to distraction. The air she blew on his body caused him to visualize all the other things she could do with her mouth and just like that his desire for her returned.

He shut his eyes in an attempt to hide the passion he felt coursing through his body as his partner took a cloth and followed the streak of wetness down his chest. He sincerely hoped she didn't see the erection that was growing uncomfortably in his pants.

There was no mistaking the lump in Elliot's sweatpants. Olivia bit her lip as she stared at it. She couldn't help but look. Besides, Elliot's eyes were closed and she had always been curious. Since Tuesday—when his arousal had been obvious against her hip—she had wanted to see it. Touch it.

Elliot dared to peek at her and saw that she was looking between his legs. He cleared his throat, but not in an objectionable way. He couldn't get words past the frog in his throat.

But the noise startled her out of her observation. Her head snapped up again, this time colliding with his chin.

"Ow," they both exclaimed. Elliot rubbed his jaw. Olivia massaged the top of her head.

"Sorry," she apologized.

"S'okay," he replied.

Their eyes met and their thoughts communicated with each other, just as they always did. The unspoken desire passed between them like electric currents. Olivia turned red and broke the connection first.

"Uh, I'm gonna hit the showers," she muttered as she put away the first aid kit and grabbed her gym bag.

It hadn't even occurred to Elliot that she had come to the precinct to work out. He didn't know what to say about that or her abrupt decision to leave.

"Showers? But you didn't even work up a sweat," he said aloud.

She turned back when she reached the door and gave him another heart-stopping smile. Elliot's heart pounded against his ribcage, sending pain through his upper body.

"I know," Olivia said before disappearing into the women's locker room.

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**Okay so this is where you (hopefully) tell me what you think of it and if it has any potential to grow into something bigger. If you have any ideas on where it should go, I'm more than happy to listen. :) I aim to please people. I guess the main question if I continue is whether or not it should be EO or EO friendship. At this point, it could go both ways. It all rests in your hands! I'll be waiting for your reviews with unrational eagerness! :D Happy--early--Thanksgiving everyone!**


	2. Spitting Flames

**A/N: The response to the first chapter was so overwhelming that I have to say THANK YOU!!!! For everyone who left a review, you're what keeps me sharing my stories. (I'd say writing, but I'd write even if I was the only one that read them haha.) So, here's the next chapter and there's probably going to be a couple more too, assuming you want them! Two things before I start:**

**1.) This is now officially EO…or will be soon. :D**

**2.) I've got a plot now. Yay! Just to warn you, the story is going to take a turn toward the dramatic, if not in this chapter, definitely in the ones to follow. Hope that's okay.**

**3.) The first few parts of this chapter happen right after the gym scene, but the last part happens a week later. I think some people might be confused. **

**Thanks again for the comments! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf likes teasing viewers with EO moments like we're hungry rabbits, but he gets away with it because he owns them.**

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**Chapter 2: Spitting Flames**

The cold shower he'd taken wasn't enough to erase Olivia's touch from his skin. Elliot strongly considered the possibility that it had all been a dream, but the pain in his chest and shoulder coupled with the fresh bandages convinced him that it had happened.

Did that mean the desire he'd seen in Olivia's eyes had been real too?

The elevator doors opened and he strode into the squad room. Munch was at his desk skimming over some paperwork. A few other detectives milled about lethargically, the morning coffee not having taken effect yet.

"What're you doing here?" Munch asked, looking up from an open folder. "Cap ordered you to take a week off."

"Uh…yeah…" Elliot said in response without looking over at the older detective. He was distracted by something else in the room.

Lilacs. A whole vase full of the purple and white flowers sat on Olivia's desk, looking innocent and inviting. Elliot wanted to throw them away and punch the idiot who had sent them. His partner was allergic to lilacs.

"You see who brought these in?" he asked Munch as he searched for the card with the offender's name.

"Some pimply teenager," Munch replied. "Do I know who they're _from_? No."

Fin walked into the slowly filling squad room. "What'd you do now?" he questioned, nodding his head in the direction of the flowers.

"Nothing," Elliot mumbled.

"Those aren't gonna get you back in her good graces. Coffee would've been better," Fin said as he shrugged out of his coat.

"They're not from me," Elliot remarked, the vein pulsing in his neck the only indication that he was more upset about that then he sounded.

"She's not going to appreciate you doing that," Munch predicted as Elliot ripped open the envelope he finally found hiding in the middle of the arrangement.

"Either of you know a Rick Webber?" he asked, ignoring Munch's warning.

Both detectives shook their heads.

"There's only a name? No love note?" Munch quipped.

Elliot had been so preoccupied by the name that he hadn't bothered to look at the message. The small script was computer generated but the message was a personal one. Elliot couldn't bring himself to read it out loud to Fin and Munch, but the more he read it to himself, the sicker he felt.

_~You're good at what you do. Thanks for sharing!~_

If he disliked the guy for sending Olivia lilacs, he hated him for those two sentences, especially the exclamation mark.

He couldn't explain why he hated a man he'd never met. He had no reason to be angry with him. Olivia was a single woman and she was allowed to date single men. Still, that didn't mean he had to like the idea.

As much as he'd like to he couldn't keep his partner locked up in a tower somewhere until her prince charming came along. No one would ever be good enough to pass through him, her self-appointed dragon.

He glanced at the lilacs again and his nostrils flared with anger. Before he talked to Olivia he had to calm down because right now he probably _could_ spit flames.

Elliot sat down at his desk, propping his legs up and crossing his arms. He was going to have a few things to say when she showed up for work; he just needed to figure out what they were first.

***

Olivia tried to compose herself before she exited the elevator. She had to appear casual and act like it was any other day, like nothing had happened that morning. She attempted to look tired, but ever since the events in the gym she had been wide awake and wired like she had downed five cups of coffee.

The first person she saw when she entered the squad room was Elliot, which didn't surprise her at all.

"You should be at home," she informed him for the second time that day. She did her best to contain her smile.

"I wish people would stop telling me that," he retorted rather harshly.

His tone made Olivia pause and reassess his relaxed pose. She noticed how his movements were strained as he stood up and how his chest puffed out with each breath. He was tense. Olivia guessed he hadn't allowed the self-gratification she'd granted herself in the showers. That was _his_ problem, not hers. She wouldn't have thought any less of him for finding release. She sure as hell had.

It took her a moment to realize that there were flowers sitting on her desk. Lilacs. Great. Now she'd be sneezing for the rest of the day. She appreciated the gesture—no one ever sent her flowers—but they had to go.

"Who's Rick Webber?" Elliot asked her as she set down the two cups of coffee she'd bought from a shop around the corner. It took her a moment to remember the Chicago detective that she'd met at a conference over two weeks ago.

Elliot's jaw was clenched and she knew he was angry about something. But he couldn't be angry over Rick. Could he?

"How do you know these are from him?" she asked instead of answering while removing her coat.

He held up the card but when she tried to take it he pulled it out of her reach.

"Who is he?" he whispered, his voice too close to her ear.

It sounded like he was trying to make her confess to a crime and she didn't like what he was insinuating with his tone. Was he trying to make her feel guilty for meeting other men? Who was _he_ to make her feel guilty about something like that?

"He's no one, Elliot. Will you give me the card?"

She tried to snatch the note out of his hand again, but he dodged her lunge and returned to his desk.

Olivia did not want to start a scene this early in the morning. What had happened to the easy banter they'd shared earlier?

"He doesn't sound like no one to me Liv. He thinks you're good at what you _do_," he told her, now waving the card in front of her face like the fifth grader he had suddenly become.

Olivia felt the blush grow on her cheeks because of what Elliot thought had happened between her and Rick Webber. In reality, the only thing they'd shared was a cup of coffee and some stories about cases. Rick was new to the police force; too young and too eager, as evidenced by the flowers.

"It's not what you think," she told Elliot, thinking to end the disagreement.

"Sure it's not."

Now he'd hit a nerve. It wasn't that he thought she'd slept with Rick. It was the fact that he didn't trust her to tell him the truth that hurt the most.

The sudden spurt of anger caused her to channel her own fifth grade attitude and she slammed her heel onto his foot. When he was distracted by the pain, she grabbed the card from Elliot's hand, read it, and shredded it before throwing it in the trash.

A few detectives saw what she had done but she didn't acknowledge their stares. Yes, she'd just hurt her already injured partner, but he deserved it. He was acting like a jealous asshole.

"Fuck Liv, what's your problem?" Elliot said as he collapsed into his chair and rubbed his foot through his shoe.

"Don't act like you didn't deserve it. Nothing happened between me and Rick and you shouldn't question that."

"C'mon. You really expect me to believe—"

"Yes."

He wasn't taking the hint. "Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend?" She wasn't sure if he sounded hurt or angry, but she didn't care. She was getting upset by his insistence.

"Rick's _not_ my boyfriend," she whispered vehemently. "And it wouldn't be any of your business if he was."

"I don't know why I didn't see it earlier," he continued, ignoring her denial. "You've been wearing more makeup lately. You're hair's always perfect. Even the way you dress has changed."

"What?" she asked, incredulous. "I haven't been dressing differently."

"The hell you haven't!" Elliot practically yelled.

"I haven't!" she yelled back, matching his volume.

"Oh, so you wear sexy bras every day then?"

Elliot cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. They'd decided to keep the exchange in the apartment bedroom between them, but he'd all but shouted that he'd seen her half naked. The announcement seemed to echo off of the squad room walls. He wanted to sink into the floor, partly from embarrassment and partly to escape the horrified glare she was giving him.

Olivia hadn't realized that they'd been screaming at each other, drawing quite the crowd. The whole bullpen seemed to be frozen around them. She had to fight the urge to slap him for his comment. The rumor mill would be in full swing before lunchtime and she could only imagine the stories people would come up with.

"You two. My office. Now."

It was Cragen's voice and it was probably the only voice that could break them out of their thoughts. Olivia obeyed first and stormed off in the direction of the captain's office, her head held high. Elliot followed, his head pointed toward the floor. He felt like a student being sent to the principal's office for saying a bad word.

***

"Well…" Cragen said some fifteen minutes later after they had explained the situation. Olivia had done most of the talking because, try as he might, Elliot couldn't even think about seeing her half naked without becoming aroused. "I don't see any reason to reprimand you for doing your jobs."

His announcement startled both of them. They'd both considered the possibility that they'd be reassigned. Their astonishment must have been obvious because Cragen gave them a small, thin-lipped smile.

"You both did what you had to. You did it to keep up Elliot's alias. Unless there's something you two aren't telling me, I don't see the problem."

Olivia and Elliot glanced at each other, giving their non-verbal apologies through their eyes, and then looked at their captain.

"We're good," Elliot said.

Olivia nodded in agreement when Cragen directed his stare at her.

"Okay then," he stated. "Elliot, go home. You're not supposed to be here. I don't want to see you back in this office until Monday morning at seven o'clock. Understood?"

"Yeah," Elliot responded, although the thought of going home after what had happened that morning was not the most pleasing idea.

"Good. Olivia, you're on the Schiller case with Fin. Munch's working a cold case."

Olivia nodded. Cragen dismissed them and they left the office together.

Elliot could tell that Olivia was still mad at him, but he didn't know how he could make it up to her.

As they walked to their desks, a violent sneeze escaped his partner. His heated gaze fell on the perpetrators, the lilacs. Handing her his handkerchief, he scooped up the flowers and put them in the garbage can across the room.

She gave him a smile when he returned to stand by her side in the elevator. "Thanks," she said, still wiping her nose. "I'm allergic to lilacs," she told him.

"Why do you think I threw them away?"

She couldn't remember telling him that she was allergic to the flowers, but somehow he knew anyway. "I dunno. But thanks."

"Don't mention it," he said. After a moment of silence he added, "I'm sorry I snapped about…"

"Don't mention it," she copied. When he made to continue his apology she laid her hand on the top of his good shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "No really, don't mention it."

"I shouldn't have embarrassed you," he pushed.

"Maybe it's better that it's out in the open," she mused. "Now Munch and Fin can stop betting on what color bra I wear."

"They do that?" Elliot asked as if he hadn't put in his own bet.

She nudged him in the side because she knew he was being sarcastic. "I get half of whatever you win from that bet."

"I guess I owe you," he admitted.

"Yeah, you do."

They shared a laugh as they walked out of the precinct and to their respective cars.

***

Elliot didn't go home until the sun was setting in the late November sky. He took his time driving around the city, trying to clear his head. Thoughts of Olivia still blurred behind his eyes. He shouldn't be thinking about her pressed up against him, naked and writhing, but he was.

By the time he walked through the front door of his home in Queens he'd managed to suppress his desire. Kathy—even if she _was_ in the mood—was not about to give him the release he was looking for. Only one woman could do that, and at the moment he couldn't touch her. Not the way he wanted to.

The sight that greeted him in the family room made him stop abruptly. Kathy sat on the couch, her head in her hands and suitcases flanking her on either side.

"What's going on?" Elliot asked, although the knot in his stomach told him he already knew.

His wife looked up at him. Instead of seeing tears like he'd expected, she looked unnaturally calm. He wondered how long she'd been sitting there.

"I can't do this anymore Elliot." Her voice was steady when she spoke.

"What d'ya mean?"

"I can't lie to you anymore. I can't tell you I love you when it's not true."

"You don't love me," he breathed, trying to pinpoint exactly when they'd stopped loving each other. The moment in time when their marriage had become a sham, a façade that gave them the allusion of being a happy family. He knew that image had crumbled some time ago, he just didn't know when.

"I care about you Elliot," she began. It was obvious that she'd practiced this speech a few times. "I just…I just need more. I've given up twenty years of my life to be your wife and a mother to our children, but…I can't do it anymore."

She sighed and took a breath. "Twenty years is a long time. Things change. People change."

"Yeah they do," he agreed solemnly.

Kathy seemed surprised that he wasn't objecting to her decision, but she hurried to finish before he could come to his senses. "I've changed and so have you. We've grown so far apart that I'm not sure we have anything in common anymore."

"We have the kids," he argued weakly.

"And we always will. But I need more out of this marriage."

"I can give you more," he started to say, but she stopped him with a shake of her head.

"No. There's nothing you can do. You've tried….I need out."

"What do you mean by 'out'?" He had to know how serious this was.

"I've called a lawyer. The divorce papers are being drawn up as we speak."

He should have been angrier than he was. He should have tried to stop her; pleaded with her to stay—if not for him—for the kids. But he remained quiet, his mind still working around what she was telling him.

"The kids?" he croaked out.

Kathy sighed and looked down at her feet. "Lizzie's at practice. Dickie went to Jack's. And Eli's down for a nap. He'll need fed when he wakes up."

As if these were the only loose ends keeping her in the house Kathy gathered her remaining suitcases and headed for the door.

Elliot couldn't believe it. She was abandoning the children. He didn't know whether to be livid or overcome with relief because she wasn't taking his kids away from him. The combination left him in a state of disbelief.

"Kath…" he said, but wasn't sure what he wanted to say, so stopped.

"You can't fix it this time Elliot. It's over. It's been over for a while."

With that comment she walked through the door. Elliot stood rooted to the spot until he heard the car engine carry her away into the fading light.

Now what was he going to do?

***

Sunday nights were usually quiet ones. It was a time for Olivia to relax before the hectic work week she always faced. Some wine and classical music accompanied a rare bubble bath before she slipped between the sheets of the bed she'd finally gotten comfortable sleeping in again.

Tonight her ritual was interrupted by Elliot's grainy voice over her intercom, telling her that he needed to talk. She buzzed him up while she toweled herself off and drained the tub.

She'd only managed to throw on some underwear and a faded t-shirt that reached her thighs when he knocked on the door.

"It's open," she called out as she ran her hands through her still dripping hair and shut off the lights in the bathroom. Olivia couldn't find a pair of clean sweats, so went without them.

She heard him come in and shut the door. He was just taking off his snow-dusted coat when she came out to greet him. Possible reasons for his sudden and unannounced appearance floated through her mind, but his facial expression wasn't giving her any hints.

Elliot took one glance in her direction and nearly had a heart attack. His partner stood before him in a loose fitting shirt that did nothing to hide the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her wet hair was tussled about her shoulders, leaking water onto the fabric of her shirt. Her bare legs seemed to extend forever before ending in slender feet. She was absolutely beautiful.

"Hey," he finally managed to utter.

"Hey," she said right back, very conscious that he was staring at her.

An unwelcome thought came to Elliot's mind while he interpreted her state of undress and the atmosphere of her apartment. "Uh, I haven't interrupted anything, have I?"

His voice nearly begged her to say no and he only started breathing again when she shook her head. The motion sent droplets of water to the hardwood floor.

"Just my bubble bath. What's up?" she asked, hazarding a few steps forward.

With every step she took she saw him tense up a little more. His hands twitched at his sides, as if unsure what he wanted to do with them. He seemed to be having difficulty forming words and she hoped nothing serious had happened.

Elliot was fighting with himself to turn away from her. If he didn't put some distance between them soon he'd lose all capabilities of speech. Then again, if he tried to speak now, the best thing he could hope for would be a strangled gurgle and maybe some drool. He doubted his Neanderthal response to her question would be the one she was looking for.

He finally turned away from her, focusing instead on the cabinets in her kitchen. He didn't know how he was going to tell her about Kathy and the divorce. It was his reason for coming over, but he hadn't planned on her being half-naked. He needed all of his concentration to tell her what had happened.

"You want something to drink?" she offered, sensing his hesitance.

He nodded, still not trusting his voice.

Olivia padded over to the refrigerator and peered inside. "I've got Bud or red wine, unless you want something non-alcoholic."

"I'll take a beer," he said.

She bent and retrieved the Budwiser for him, but she opted for the wine. Along with the drinks, Olivia removed a take-out box with a slice of lasagna she hadn't gotten around to eating.

Her shirt lifted just enough to give him a glimpse of green. Elliot found himself staring at the curve of her ass and an all too familiar feeling gripped his lower abdomen like a heated vice.

"You wanna split it?" she asked as she put the square tower of noodles and sauce on a paper plate.

He nodded again and his silence worried her.

When she reached above her stove to slide the lasagna in the microwave, her shirt rode up until it grazed the top of her underwear. Elliot swore softly under his breath behind her and she turned in time to see him staring at her ass.

"You checkin' me out Stabler?" she asked, her voice dropping several octaves. She cocked a smile in his direction to let him know she wasn't offended. Not in the remotest sense.

"You always wear sexy underwear?" he asked hoarsely, still not meeting her eyes even though her shirt was back in place.

She laughed at his breathlessness. "You think these are sexy? C'mon. These hide _way_ too much to be sexy."

Elliot disagreed with her reasoning. She could be wearing long-johns and she'd still be gorgeous.

She set the timer for the lasagna and turned back to him. His eyes were still roaming over her body and she felt desire flare up inside of her. She knew she should stop him from gawking. He was married and it wasn't right to tempt him, even if it was fun to watch him squirm.

Olivia stepped closer to him. Her index finger slid underneath his chin, tilting his head up until their eyes were level. "Eyes are up here El," she reminded him gently.

Yeah, her eyes—those beautiful brown eyes that he could stare at for hours—were there. But so was the mouth which was smirking at him, pink lips slightly parted. That mouth was drawing him closer with every breath, begging him to kiss it.

Elliot's eyes flicked back and forth from the two features in rapid succession. He saw the desire glaze her eyes before his lips met with hers. He felt his heart exploded in his chest from the intimate contact while everything else went temporarily numb.

Her hand touched his cheek and it was all he needed to completely let go of his restraint. Elliot slanted his mouth over hers again and again. His right hand found its way to her wet hair while his left hand slowly trailed down her back.

Olivia responded to the kiss with just as much fervor, running her tongue along his bottom lip before grazing it with her teeth.

Elliot tugged on her hair lightly until she tilted her head back to where he wanted it. A moan escaped her as he pushed his body against hers and he took advantage of her parted lips to dip his tongue inside. She tasted like the wine; sweetness and spice mixed together creating a heady cocktail. He was intoxicated by her touch and her mouth equally.

Olivia could feel Elliot's hands exploring her back, always stopping short of her underwear, but each time his hand traveled south it got a little closer to touching her where she wanted it. His erection was digging into her hip. Although their bare skin wasn't touching, it felt like they were even closer to crossing the line of no return.

At that moment, Olivia couldn't have cared less.

She gripped his shoulders as she backed up against the counter. Elliot grunted but more from pain rather than pleasure.

The sound brought her to her senses abruptly and she broke off the kiss. This wasn't some fantasy she'd played out in her mind. This was the real deal, and there would be real consequences if they continued. Elliot seemed to be a little slower at escaping the lustful daze they'd been sharing.

"I'm sorry," she said in reference to his shoulder but also the kiss. She shouldn't have let him kiss her. She shouldn't have kissed him back.

Elliot's mind was swimming around in his head, so he wasn't able to form a response. He wasn't sure why she was apologizing though. He was the one who'd started this.

She pushed away from the counter and downed the rest of her wine. "I think you should leave. I'm sure Kathy's expecting you home." It killed her to say it, but she hoped it would deter him from ever bringing the exchange up again.

Elliot started to form a protest in his head. He had come there to tell her about the divorce and his inability to do so seemed to be the only reason they'd stopped. But he still couldn't bring himself to tell her. Now would not be the right time. Not after that kiss.

Elliot picked up his coat from where he'd discarded it on the couch before reaching for the door handle. A part of him couldn't leave without knowing everything was alright between them.

"Liv…" he began, but waited for her to look at him. It was important to have the connection with her eyes. She turned to him, one of her hands scrunching up her hair. "Are we okay?"

"Huh?" It was obviously not the question she'd been expecting.

"You still gonna work with me tomorrow?" He tried to smile but failed.

She grinned at him then and his fear of awkwardness between them evaporated.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," she told him. "You're mine Elliot."

That possessive statement haunted him all the way home. She'd probably only been joking, but Elliot found the idea vastly appealing. He was hers. In whatever sense she wanted him. Whether it be as partners, friends…something more. He'd take whatever she'd give him.

Something in the kiss they'd shared told him they'd moved past friendship or even mundane partnership. They were in limbo and headed toward the 'something more' category. And whatever that something was, he knew it wasn't going to be anything tame.

* * *

**End Note: Well, I hope you like where I'm taking this, but the only way for me to know is if you review. :) Speaking of those wonderful comments, the more I get, the higher the chances of me updating again before finals. **

**Also, since I know the tension is killing you, I promise the next chapter will contain smut. I'm not the best at writing it, but I'll give you what you want since you've all been so nice to me.**

**If something in this chapter upset you, tell me about it. Whether it was plot, a certain line, description…whatever. I'll do my best to fix it in the future. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Lose Control

**A/N: So it's been a while since the last update. Okay, longer than a while. Sorry about that. Really. Finals were insane this semester, but now they're over. Right now it's the holiday that's keeping me away. I wrote this while I made 15 dozen chocolate chip cookies because it was the only time I had. Again, I'm sorry it's taken this long, but it's finally here! Again a few things before I start.**

**1.) Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! You're all amazing and make me very happy! :)**

**2.) The smut is here! Obviously this means adult content, so if you're not fond of that kind of thing (or if you're not old enough) skip the ending. There's also more adult language in this chapter so I hope no one's offended. This probably really should be rated M now, but I didn't want to bump it up. You've been warned.**

**3.) For this story I'm saying Eli's between one and two, but definitely no older than two. I'm not sure if that matches up on the show, but that's what I'm making him. And Dickie/Lizzie are nearing sixteen (again, not sure if that's show compatible). Sorry in advance to nitpicky fans. :)**

**4.) This chapter was not read by a beta, so if there are any mistakes they're on me.**

**As always thank you for reading, tell me your thoughts in a review, and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: The characters are owned by Dick Wolf. Pedialyte's not mine either.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Lose Control **

Olivia dreaded going to work on Mondays. She dreaded sorting through the cases left unsolved on Friday. If she was lucky enough to not have an open case, she dreaded sorting through the deluge of paperwork that always seemed to accumulate on her desk over the weekend. Worst of all she dreaded new cases because every new victim proved that no matter how well she did her job she would never be good enough to stop the violence.

But today she dreaded Monday for a completely different reason. She dreaded the idea of facing Elliot. She had never been so afraid to see him in all the time they'd been partners. There'd been times she didn't _want_ to see Elliot before—because she was angry with him or vice versa—but she had never been _afraid_ to see him.

But after what had happened in her apartment last night, the thought of seeing him in the office gave her chills.

Then again, maybe those chills weren't from fear after all.

Olivia wouldn't allow her thoughts to wander down that destructive path. Her feelings for her partner were something she tried to keep buried within her, especially at work. She was determined to act professional, but that determination was constantly undermined by Elliot and herself. Last night's kiss was the latest in a series of examples of when professionalism had been cast aside for more basic needs and wants.

She couldn't deny that she'd wanted Elliot for a long time. But she also knew she couldn't have him. The list of reasons why was long and ever present in her mind; rules, wife, kids, morals, complications. Her list usually helped her push him away, but somehow he had managed to break through to her last night.

Olivia's mood was anything but pleasant when she arrived at the precinct. Even before she removed her coat, she made a beeline for the coffee station, hoping that caffeine would loosen her up and help her get rid of her thoughts so she could focus on her job.

She'd already made up her mind not to mention the kiss. Not here.

Elliot was already seated at his desk, glancing through a file while drinking coffee. He looked like he'd been up all night and she wondered if he'd tossed and turned and dreamt like she had. Something was different about him this morning, but she couldn't place it.

Elliot watched as she filled her mug with coffee before returning to her desk.

"Morning," he said, testing her mood. She was always touchy on Mondays.

"Welcome back," she remarked, slipping out of her leather coat and sitting. Her smile was small and didn't reach her eyes.

He had to ask the question that she'd already answered last night. But he needed clarification.

"So, we're still alright?" His eyes searched for her brown ones.

Except for the slightest blush, nothing changed in her expression.

"We're fine," she assured him.

He wasn't entirely sure he believed her, but he knew better than to push a topic she didn't want to talk about. And she'd definitely just given him her warning tone. She wasn't in the mood for any kind of small talk, especially not when it concerned what had transpired last night.

Elliot watched his partner for a few more seconds and decided there was something not right. He determined it had to be her clothes. Conservative was the only way he could describe her appearance. Her collared blouse, with all but the top button fastened, was tucked into a pair of loose-fitting black slacks.

He didn't know why she was suddenly trying to hide her body from him. After all, he'd seen almost everything underneath. Almost.

Her behavior and attire were both confusing and worrisome. When he'd left her apartment last night he'd thought all was well. Apparently she had changed her mind in the eight hours or so that they had been apart.

"You need any help with that?" he asked, indicating the stack of paperwork on her desk.

She looked up from the file in front of her long enough to run her eyes over the pile of papers on his desk and then shook her head.

"Looks like you've got enough to do already," she mumbled.

With his attempt at friendly communication effectively shut down, Elliot sighed and focused his attention on the paperwork in front of him, a task he was not happy to get underway. He'd rather be anywhere but stuck at a desk doing paperwork.

***

Two hours and three cups of coffee later and Elliot had only made a small dent in his stack of files. He blamed Olivia because even though she seemed determined to give him the cold shoulder, he still couldn't get her out of his mind. Flashbacks of their kiss in her kitchen kept distracting him and he had to read the same document three times before he understood it.

As usual, Olivia had made much more progress on her paperwork. The fact that she kept her eyes glued to her computer screen and refused to look at him only added to her speed. Her fingers skimmed over the keyboard quickly and all Elliot could do was remember those fingers on his skin.

Olivia could feel him staring at her but was afraid her eyes would betray her if she chanced to look up at him. She was afraid that he'd see the battle of emotions that was going through her body. At first she felt guilty for kissing him, but she rationalized that they'd both wanted it. That thought scared her more than anything.

For the longest time she had denied her feelings for Elliot even to herself, but in that one heated moment she felt that she'd revealed her true feelings. The scary part was that Elliot had revealed his feelings to her too.

Up until that point she never thought the deep emotions she had for her partner had been reciprocated. It was all her and her fantasies. But Elliot had gone and thrown her a curve ball and she wasn't entirely sure how to deal with it.

Shameless flirting was one thing. Making out in her apartment was entirely different. It crossed lines. It took their relationship past simply complicated and made it nearly impossible to define.

Olivia finished another report and sat back in her chair, shaking her arms out and cracking her neck to relieve the tension. She could still feel Elliot's gaze boring into her and she decided they had avoided talking about their complicated partnership long enough.

With a guarded expression, she looked up at him.

And that's when she noticed what was different about him.

It was his finger. His ring finger. On his left hand. It was bare.

No wedding band.

Olivia forgot what she was going to say and her head filled with questions. She fought the urge to blurt them out in the middle of the squad room.

"You want a refill?" he asked, wiggling his coffee mug in his hand.

"Uh…yeah," she answered without really thinking about it. She wanted to know why he wasn't wearing his ring, what it meant. More importantly she wanted to know if he had been wearing it last night when he'd kissed her. For being an elite detective her memory seemed to be failing her when she needed it most.

He hooked a finger around the handle of her mug and headed for the coffee station. Olivia saw her opportunity to confront him. She knew it would be better to wait until they were somewhere more private, but her curiosity won out against her better judgment. She got up and followed him.

"El—" she began but was interrupted by an approaching voice. It was angry and overpowered her whispered statement.

"Detective Stabler." Kim Greylek had just cornered them and Olivia cursed her horrible timing.

There was something in the assistant district attorney's formal address that put Elliot on his guard. Olivia seemed tense as well as he pressed the hot cup of coffee into her hands, but he didn't know why she'd suddenly gone stiff beside him.

"Yes?" he said cautiously, guessing that he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear.

"Didn't Captain Cragen tell you about our meeting? I need to prep you for court."

"No. Don must not've gotten around to telling me." It wasn't a lie.

Kim frowned at the idea of being overlooked but chose to focus on what she'd come for.

"I'll speak with him about that later. Right now I've got to prep you for the Bushido trial. Assuming you don't have anything more important," she remarked in a tone that suggested he'd better be free.

Elliot glanced at the pile of papers on his desk and remembered thinking that he'd rather be anywhere else but at his desk. "Nope. I'm not busy. Let's do this. I want that bastard to stay behind bars for the rest of his life."

"Good," Kim exclaimed, slightly appeased. "But it'd probably be best to refer to him as 'Mr. Bushido' on the stand."

"I'll work on it," Elliot replied without sincerity. The criminal had shot him twice and left him for dead, not to mention the fact that he'd murdered fourteen other people. Elliot didn't think a judge would mind if he called Bushido what he was: a bastard.

Passing his still-full coffee mug into Olivia's empty hand he asked her to tell Cragen where he'd gone off to if he came looking. Then he left with the new ADA.

Olivia's frustration skyrocketed because she was left with two cups of coffee, many unasked questions and zero answers. This Monday was proving to be a disaster. She should have just stayed in bed.

***

Another uneventful hour went by and Elliot had not returned. She'd just finished her report on the Schiller case when her cell phone vibrated in her coat pocket. She answered the unfamiliar number before the second ring.

"Olivia Benson."

"Ms. Benson, this is Jenny from Queens and Kings Daycare."

Olivia absentmindedly recalled the name of the daycare Elliot's son attended. She didn't understand why they were calling her or how they'd gotten her cell phone number.

"I'm calling because Mr. Stabler's son needs to be sent home," the woman told her.

Olivia immediately became worried. "Is Eli okay? What happened?"

"He's running a temperature of a hundred and one and it's our policy that he be sent home."

Olivia allowed herself to breathe again. "He's sick," she clarified.

"Yes, but nothing a little rest and Pedialyte won't cure. But Eli _has_ to be picked up. It's to protect the other children." The woman sounded rather desperate.

"Um, his father's in a meeting. I'm not sure how long he'll be. Have you tried his wife?" She couldn't keep the curiosity out of her voice. Surely they would've called Kathy before calling her.

"Neither of the Stablers are answering their phones. You're their emergency contact," Jenny explained.

"I am?" Olivia was stunned.

"Is there going to be a problem?" she asked, not bothering to hide her desperation now.

"Uh…" Olivia stood and grabbed her coat. "No, no problem. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"We'll have him bundled up for you when you get here." Her relief was obvious even through the phone.

Olivia scribbled a note to Elliot about needing his car because of Eli's car-seat, then snagged his keys before heading out pick up her partner's son.

***

"We're home little man. Just hang in there a little longer," Olivia said, soothing the fussy child as she unbuckled him from his car-seat.

The sandy-haired boy was snuggled in a winter coat that only left his face visible, but he looked miserable. His skin was pale, but his cheeks and nose were flushed with fever. Crusty bits of mucus lined his nose but didn't stop the fresh line of snot from trailing down to his lip.

His appearance scared her because she'd never had any real experience with a sick child before.

Little fists rubbed tired eyes. Eli whined and blubbered when she shifted him in her arms to open the front door of the Stabler home with the key Elliot had given her over a year ago. Eli's fevered forehead rubbed against the skin of her neck and she could sense his discomfort. Her heart went out to him.

She walked into the kitchen and put the child's knapsack on the counter. Eli's mouth opened against her neck, but instead of another sleepy whine, vomit spewed out and onto her shirt, running down the right side and seeping into the fabric. Olivia barely contained a curse.

Eli started crying and shaking in her arms. Olivia managed to not panic and resisted the urge to call the hospital. All kids threw up, especially when they were sick. He just needed some of that stuff Jenny had mentioned on the phone. Pedialyte or something like that.

"Shh, it's okay," she reassured him softly while rubbing circles on his back. "Let's clean you up. Then I'll look for something to calm your tummy, 'kay?"

Fifteen minutes later Eli was in his crib, washed and changed into a set of clean clothes. She'd already searched the fridge for the drink that was supposed to make him feel better, but there was none to be found. She wasn't going to drag Eli back outside to go to the store and risk making him more miserable. Instead she left Elliot a voicemail that told him what was going on and that he should stop by the store on his way home.

When she went to check on Eli after the phone call to his father, Olivia saw that he was sleeping.

Only then did she remember that she was covered with vomit. Removing her shirt she went over to the closet to grab a clean shirt. She'd just wash hers and change before Elliot got back.

Her jaw dropped when she opened the closet door and found that it was more than half-empty. All of Elliot's clothes were there, but Kathy's were missing.

Nothing of Kathy's remained.

"What the hell?" she questioned out loud.

***

Elliot couldn't stop smiling all the way home. He wasn't happy that his son was sick, but Olivia's exasperated tone in her message made him laugh.

"…_And why don't you have any Pedialyte in your fridge? You've raised _how_ many kids? Don't you think you should be better prepared for these kinds of situations?"_

Her concern for his son had been so obvious that he couldn't help but love her a little more. She'd always been so good to him and all his children. She'd practically delivered his youngest.

Elliot opened the door and headed for the kitchen. He found Olivia with Eli in her arms. She was swaying back and forth while patting his back and humming some nameless tune. Eli grasped a sippy cup in his hands but he'd only just been introduced to the new drinking device and hadn't gotten the hang of it yet. The water in the cup was hardly touched.

When his son saw him in the doorway he began fussing in Olivia's arms. Olivia stopped humming and turned to him, relief washing over her face.

"You brought it," she stated, her eyes falling to the plastic bag that carried the Pedialyte. "He's thrown up twice and I don't want him to get dehydrated. He won't drink water though. Stubborn like his father I guess."

She'd already traded him the baby for the drinks by the end of her rushed ramble. Eli was happy to be in his father's arms and wrapped his hands around his neck.

"Liv, he'll be fine," Elliot assured her as she passed him a new sippy cup with the Pedialyte inside. "Just needs some rest. If he gets worse, I'll take him to see a doctor. Don't worry."

They stood in the kitchen for a few minutes, just watching little Eli drink from his cup. His eyes began to droop and his hold on the cup loosened until Elliot had to hold it for him.

"Okay, I think that's enough big guy. Nap time," Elliot told him.

With Olivia right behind him, Elliot took his son into the bedroom and laid him in the crib with care. They both watched him with loving eyes while he squirmed into a comfortable position. Almost immediately after he was settled, Eli fell asleep.

"You've got skill," Olivia told him with a smile as they walked back into the kitchen.

"Well, I've had practice," he responded. "You weren't too bad yourself."

"I learn fast. I guess vomit does that. He only got me once," she bragged, amusement lacing her words.

"You sure?" Elliot questioned, smiling at her.

"Why?"

He pointed to her pants and Olivia made a face once she saw the glob of drying vomit clinging to her black pants at the top of her thigh.

"Damn. I thought he missed me that second time," she said, grabbing a napkin from the kitchen counter and trying to remove the mixture of bananas and apple juice without actually touching it.

Elliot smiled at her reaction. "At least it wasn't sloppy-joes and ice cream," he mused remembering one of Kathleen's birthday parties. He took a dish towel and continued wiping when she paused to throw the used napkin away.

"If you take them off I'll wash 'em for you," he told her.

Olivia thought about her answer a second longer than she should have.

"No, it's okay. You don't have to do that."

"C'mon. I insist." He walked to the other side of the kitchen to the adjoining laundry area and patted the washer for emphasis.

She looked at him and his easy grin. There was something mischievous about that smile. "You're just trying to get me naked, aren't you?" she half-joked.

His smiled widened in a wolfish display that made her heart pound against her ribcage.

"Maybe," he admitted.

"Elliot!" she exclaimed, shocked by his blatant statement. She couldn't tell if he was serious or if he was just joking with her. "I'm not taking my pants off."

"Why not? You didn't seem uncomfortable in your underpants last night," he reasoned. Elliot saw her blush before she shook her head.

"It's not that," she said. "It's just that I'm not wearing decent underwear."

He laughed at her sudden modesty. "So you _do _wear sexy underwear all the time," he confirmed out loud.

"Only if you call non-existent sexy."

Elliot was sure his jaw was hanging open, but he couldn't help it. His partner had just admitted that she wasn't wearing any underwear. He had just been touching her thigh. To think that only one flimsy layer of fabric separated his hand from her flesh brought several enticing images to his mind.

He had to remember what had brought on this conversation. The spot on her pants brought him back from his fantasy-world.

"Lemme wash 'em for you. It's really the least I can do."

Olivia looked at him, one eyebrow arching in a questioning manner. "What part of 'non-existent' didn't you understand?"

"I'll give you a pair of sweats," he offered.

They stared at each other for countless seconds. Elliot couldn't quite determine the look in her eyes but he could tell she was entertaining the possibility of accepting his offer. She was biting her lower lip in indecision.

He needed something to keep her there with him, to make her say yes. He just wanted her to himself a little longer.

He found himself leaning forward, invading her space until his lips all but brushed against her ear. His whisper disturbed her loose, fruity-smelling hair.

"Take them _off_ Benson."

The order sent a warm shiver down her back and Olivia hoped he hadn't heard her gasp. When he pulled back she saw that his grin had grown even bigger, and she wondered if he knew how he affected her. And if he did, why was he baiting her? Payback?

He stared at her, arms crossed, waiting for her to comply with his instruction. It was his confident I-know-I'm-going-to-win stare that made her give in.

"Fine. Give me the sweatpants."

Two minutes later she had changed into a pair of Elliot's grey sweatpants. They hung loosely around her hips and pooled slightly at her feet but were still comfortable. Coupled with Elliot's shirt—which she hadn't felt like changing out of even though hers was clean—Olivia's senses were enveloped by his scent.

"Here," she said as she passed the dirty slacks to Elliot.

He couldn't help but gawk at her. Seeing her in his clothes, knowing they were rubbing against her bare skin made him itch in a good way. As much as he loved seeing her in his clothes, he'd much rather see her out of them. Preferably after he ripped them off her body.

Olivia watched as he fumbled with the laundry detergent and the dials on the pre-digital washing machine.

"Stop!" she exclaimed. Elliot was ready to pour four times the necessary detergent into the rising water. "You don't need all that. Honestly El, don't you know how to do laundry?"

He smiled over her mini-outburst. "Never had a lot of experience."

"You must've gotten _some_ when you and Kathy were separated."

His smile turned sheepish and he cast his glaze to the ground. "Maureen would do it for me," he confessed.

Olivia sighed in mock exasperation. "Okay, step aside and let the professional do it," she said, nudging him away with a bump of her hip. He backed up just enough for her to squeeze between him and the washer. "Watch me work my magic."

She was working all kinds of magic on him. He was entranced by her in every way imaginable.

He knew she was joking when she told him to watch her, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. She was so damn beautiful and she didn't even know it. He didn't think she had any idea how badly she affected him. But if she nudged him with her hip again, she'd find out.

She was so close to him and Elliot didn't think he'd be able to restrain himself from touching her.

Olivia knew the exact moment Elliot's lips skimmed over the side of her neck. Her fingers clenched around the sides of the washer to stop from reaching for him. They couldn't take this any farther without a serious talk.

She wanted to know why Kathy's clothes were gone. Why he wasn't wearing his wedding ring. Olivia had her suspicions, but she needed to hear him say it.

But Elliot's kisses were a delightful distraction from all the serious questions that came to her mind. At first his lips were light against her skin, but then his mouth grew bolder, pressing against her neck, sucking on certain parts longer than others.

She fought off a moan, knowing she should object to his actions.

"El…" she started as she turned toward him. That was her mistake.

Blue eyes stared back at her with a lustful glaze and his lips were entirely too close to hers.

He brought his hand up to her cheek, caressing it before lowering his mouth onto hers. Thoughts of pulling away vanished as she returned his kiss, framing his face with her hands. His tongue flicked against her lower lip, asking permission to enter. She opened her mouth to him willingly.

Elliot's tongue slipped inside her mouth and she finally moaned in response. The kiss quickly turned into a battle, each of them fighting to be the aggressor. His thoughts were clouded by passion and he wanted her so badly it was getting painful.

Without thinking he gripped her sides and lifted her up, settling her on top of the washer. He refused to acknowledge the pain that caused in his injured shoulder.

As soon as she'd hit the metal top Olivia hooked her legs around Elliot's back, wanting to draw him closer. He'd moved from her lips to her jaw and was haphazardly kissing his way down her neck as he started working on the buttons of her shirt. But the buttons refused to come undone fast enough for his liking.

Pulling back from her neck, Elliot frowned at the buttons that were preventing him from touching her. His earlier fantasy of ripping off her top popped into his head and he acted on it. He gripped the fabric on either side of the center in his hands and pulled harshly. The buttons gave easily and Elliot's hands were finally able to touch her skin.

Her remaining common sense took a permanent vacation when his hands roamed over her. All was lost to his touch and her body shivered and jerked underneath him. While he continued to kiss her mouth, one of his hands snaked around her back underneath the shirt. She knew what he was looking for.

"It's in the front," she told him breathlessly.

Elliot laughed against her mouth. "You never stop surprising me," he told her.

In one quick snap Olivia's bra was unlatched, her hard nipples exposed to him. While he gazed at her in appreciation, Olivia saw her chance to rid him of his shirt. She unbuttoned the first few buttons, then pulled the shirt over his head. She did the same to his undershirt.

The brief disconnection fueled their desire and they reached for each other with hungry hands.

Any morals she thought she had disintegrated under his rough touch. His hands were all over her. His mouth too. They pawed at her breasts and sides of her hips. His teeth nipped, bit, and scraped over her nipples, making her moan with pleasure.

Even though she knew what they were doing was wrong, if felt so good, so right. And she knew they both wanted more. There wasn't any stopping now.

At this point she could be damned by the fates and it wouldn't bother her as long as she could get Elliot inside of her.

Olivia reached for his belt at the same time he slid the sweatpants down her legs. She kicked them off as she freed his erection from the confines of his pants and boxer-briefs. She didn't have the time to touch it or admire it the way she imagined she would.

She needed it inside of her. Now.

Elliot saw the hunger in her eyes. He didn't even need to ask if it was all right for him to continue. The answer was already in her eyes. He gripped her hips and plunged inside of her with one swift thrust.

Olivia let out a small yelp. She had been wet and ready for him long before he entered her, but he filled her so completely that she was momentarily unable to speak. There was a little pain, but his width surprised her more than anything else.

"Sorry," he panted against her neck. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He just couldn't help himself.

But Olivia didn't want an apology. She wanted him to fuck her. She'd waited too long for this to be gentle. To show him what she wanted she bucked her hips forward, pushing herself closer to the edge of the washer.

It was Elliot's turn to groan. He wanted to slow things down, to remember what was going on. He wanted to take in every second of what they were doing but Olivia was telling him to take her. She was on a washer and didn't seem to care one bit. He thought about taking her to a bed, a couch at least.

But then the reality of what this was crept into his mind. What they were doing wasn't love-making. It was screwing. And screwing didn't call for comfort or patience or loving words.

Olivia was biting his earlobe and pushing herself against him, digging her nails into him wherever she could reach.

"Fuck me, Elliot," she growled impatiently into his ear.

That command brought him back to the present and he obeyed. He began moving inside of her, pulling out until he was nearly gone before pushing back into her with force. As his pace increased and he lost control, his movements became more erratic.

_Elliot, fuck _and _yes_ were the three words in her vocabulary. Everything else was a jumble of incomprehensible moans and other gutturals.

His thrusts were powerful and the hands gripping her hips were going to leave bruises. They pulled at her until her lower body slid off the front of the washer. With her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands stretched above her head holding onto the control board, she was practically horizontal. The position felt wonderful with him in her, but it was killing her back.

He sensed the pain she was in and positioned her back on the washer without breaking pace. He was close to reaching that sweet release and he knew she was too. Her walls clenched around him with a wild fury every time he was inside of her.

The machine beneath her unexpectedly whirred to life as it started the wash cycle. The vibrations from the washer coupled with Elliot's thrusts were mind numbing.

And then Elliot reached between their sweating bodies and stroked her bundle of nerves that was already throbbing with pleasure.

She didn't last past the third sweep of his thumb. Her walls convulsed wildly around him and she screamed his name as her orgasm hit her hard and she lost all control. She felt like she'd just stuck a fork in an outlet; her body was on fire with her release.

Elliot spilled into her a few moments later with his own intense orgasm.

He placed his lips on her shoulder and when he pulled his mouth away he could taste blood. Her blood. He had bitten her at some point. Little red dots marred her otherwise flawless skin.

He had marked her. Elliot found some perverse satisfaction in that. She was his now.

Olivia was still coming down from her happy place when he withdrew from her. She groaned loudly. The washer was still going, but Elliot had enough sense to turn it off.

The only sound that broke the silence was their heavy breathing.

Elliot pulled up his pants and fastened them. He was trying to think of some kind of apology. But what could he say that would excuse him from treating her like a whore. She deserved so much more than a simple "sorry." Her body deserved to be worshipped and he'd used her like she was a cheap fuck.

He picked up the sweatpants up off the floor and put them in her lap, hoping that was some step in the right direction.

Olivia had snapped her bra shut again but made no move to cover herself otherwise. Chocolate brown eyes still showed signs of hazy lust.

But there was something else there that made him feel guilty for everything that had just happened. Pain. He wasn't sure what kind of pain, but he disliked it regardless because he knew he'd been the one to put it there.

"Liv—" he began gruffly, touching her face tenderly.

Before she could respond they heard the front door open and close. Footsteps drew the body closer to their location.

Neither of them could move. His hand was on her cheek. They were frozen in place.

They were caught.

"Dad?" It was Dickie. He walked into the kitchen and stopped abruptly. "_Dad?_"

He looked like he was speechless, but Elliot knew that his son had a temper just like him.

"Dickie," he said, finally withdrawing all contact from Olivia.

But the anger in his son's eyes was already at the boiling point. His hands fisted at his sides and a vein in the side of his neck pulsed visibly.

"So this is why mom left!" he shouted in accusation, confirming Olivia's earlier suspicions. She was happy to know she wasn't completely stupid.

Then again, she _had_ just fucked her partner _and_ been caught by his son.

"No! Dickie…." Elliot was trying to come up with an explanation for something that had no answer.

But Dickie turned and stormed out of the room, cursing his father the entire way to the door.

Elliot stumbled over his feet as he picked up his discarded shirt and ran after his son. Olivia saw the red scratches on his back that she had delivered chaotically in the heat of the moment.

He paused to look at her, still mostly naked on top of the washer.

"Go," she told him, but she couldn't keep the regret out of her voice.

"Liv…"

"Go!" she yelled.

He left without another word or glance.

Olivia felt the first tears slide down her cheek. Thoughts and emotions swarmed against her, chiding her for being a fool. She'd just become the cliché she had sworn she'd prove wrong. Everything in her world had just fallen into chaos.

She finally understood why Kathy hated her so much.

In that moment, Olivia hated herself too.

* * *

**A/N: Well, I hope you liked it! Reviews would be most appreciated, particularly if you have something to say (positive or constructive) about the smut scene. It's the first explicit scene that I've posted and I'd like to see how it was received. But _any and all_ reviews are welcome!**

**Look for the next chapter on the first of the New Year. There's drama ahead (in case it wasn't obvious) and everyone's involved.**

**Just to let you know, I'm pretty sure there'll only be five chapters in this story and I hope to have them finished before I go back to class on the twelfth, but we'll see how it goes.**

**Oh and Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays. Whatever holiday you celebrate, have a good one!**


	4. Fighting Flight

**A/N: As promised, here's the next chapter. Updating in a timely manner is one of my New Year's resolutions. Haha. A few things:**

**1.) This chapter is kind of long. There was a lot that I had to include, but I didn't want to split it up. Hope this isn't a problem.**

**2.)Again, this is not beta-read. Mistakes are all mine. If something doesn't make sense, please alert me to it.**

**3.)My medical research may not be a hundred percent accurate, but I did my best.**

**Thank you all for reading and leaving me reviews! Again, they mean SO much! Please continue. And enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf's New Year's resolution is to promise EO fans some action! Well, at least it should be. Until then, I can only offer some drama in its place. Dick Wolf still owns everything though.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Fighting Flight**

Yesterday was a blur. Well, not all of it. Everything before Dickie Stabler's untimely entrance and angry departure was crystal clear. It was everything following Elliot running outside after his son that was a blur.

She vaguely remembered dressing with lightning speed before Lizzie walked in. With a mumbled "call me if you need anything" she had bolted, fleeing Queens and trying to outrun the consequences of what she'd just done.

Her cab had dropped her off at a corner liquor store near her apartment building, where she'd purchased a cheap bottle of vodka before walking the rest of the way home. Thoughts had buzzed around in her head, making her dizzy.

What had she been thinking?

Obviously, she hadn't been.

She wasn't ready to accept what had just happened, what it meant, how it had made her feel. Guilt had taken hold of her during her shower and she was glad she'd anticipated needing the alcohol to make it go away.

But the lingering effects of the vodka were making her Tuesday morning hell. Her head was killing her. Her mouth was dry. At this point she didn't even know if she'd fallen asleep voluntarily or if she'd past out. Given her haphazard position on the still-made bed, she leaned toward the latter.

She didn't want to move, but her pre-set alarm was blaring in her ear and making her head throb. A twinge of pain ran through her hand when she shut off the alarm. That's when she saw the bloody gash on her hand. It took her a moment longer to remember how it had gotten there.

Broken glass. The smell of alcohol. The pain of the vodka mingling with her blood.

After her guilt about having sex with her partner had worn off with the help of the vodka, anger had seized her. At first it had been directed at Elliot because he hadn't told her about the divorce. But then she had channeled that anger on herself because she should have had more control. She shouldn't have let Elliot touch her. Not so intimately. So completely.

That's when she'd started drinking with a clear purpose: to guzzle booze until the anger and the embarrassment went away. Each drink had made her a little number. Elliot's betrayal—as she'd come to see it—had been slowly suffocated with the alcohol.

But even though she drank at a rate that took her to oblivion within an hour or so, the anger had stayed with her. And it had changed. She had still been the target but the anger had hit a different part of her conscience.

The vodka had turned into her enemy. She knew drinking because of a man was wrong. It was something her mother had done, something Olivia had hated while growing up. It was something she had vowed she'd never do.

But there she was, drinking of Elliot, getting shit-faced because she didn't know how to cope with what had passed between them.

Olivia had become so enraged with her realization that she had screamed and smashed the bottle into the kitchen sink.

So that's where the cut on her hand had come from. She supposed she deserved it.

A small sliver of glass remained in the wound and Olivia picked at it as she lay on the bed. She rose slowly and went into the bathroom to bandage the cut, the soreness between her legs making every step uncomfortable.

Apparently the alcohol wasn't the only thing making her miserable. She was hung over on Elliot too.

Beside her whole body being sore, Olivia noticed she had bruises on her hips, just as she'd predicted. There was a mark on her shoulder that looked like a bite. Also Elliot's doing.

She thought the unpleasant reminders of her lapse in control were suiting and a possible indication of what the future held for their partnership. It was damaged now, just like her body. But her body would heal with time. She wasn't sure their partnership would be able to regenerate as easily.

There was no going back to what they'd once had. The fine line that kept personal and professional separate was now completely erased. Olivia wasn't even sure she'd be able look at him without feeling ashamed, exposed.

This whole thing was a big mess and it felt like she was crumbling into pieces.

She didn't know what she wanted anymore.

***

Every attempt Olivia made to return pleasant conversation ended in failure; she'd only managed to sound angry or indifferent. Then again, she'd only had two chances before Elliot had left for court. Bushido's trial was this afternoon and he was a star witness. There was no telling how long he'd be gone.

His absence left Olivia too much time to think. Her thoughts were driving her crazy and the mish-mash of emotions she felt were just as teeth-grinding. One minute she'd fell guilty—for the sex and possibly being the reason Elliot and Kathy's marriage had ended—the next she was mad. She was angry with herself, with Elliot, with the criminals being led in and out of the squad room.

She knew that she needed to talk to Elliot eventually, but that thought scared her. She wasn't sure she'd survive the kind of conversation they needed to have.

These and other thoughts plagued her in between case files and follow-ups. She delayed going home as long as possible. She needed to see Elliot. Olivia needed to talk to him about the sex they never should have had, to confirm that they were going to get past it and get back to normal.

Ha. Normal. It wasn't a word associated with their partnership. Relationship. _Whatever_ it was.

She stayed after Munch and Fin went home for the night. Even Cragen told her to leave. There were no major cases to work on at the moment, and he told her to not take the break for granted. But she didn't listen.

She sat at her desk, waiting.

Four phone calls, a cup of coffee, and a lost intern made up the next hour.

Olivia decided she wasn't going to wait around any longer. Elliot must have gone home after the trial.

She was angry again because she hadn't been able to ask Elliot why he hadn't told her anything about the divorce. Her anger had been festering all day and she needed a decent night's sleep to calm down.

Standing in front of the elevators, she rocked on the balls of her feet while she waited for the doors to open.

Elliot saw her face register surprise before turning into an outright frown. For the short time he had been with her today, she had shut him down every time he attempted small talk. It didn't look like things had changed.

"Hi," he said.

Other words came to his mind—ones of apology, explanation—but he couldn't say them in the face of the hostility that was emanating from her.

He knew she had every right to be angry with him. He was angry at himself for how he had treated her and how he had left her so abruptly. He'd never got the chance to tell her what he'd wanted to. There was a lot left unsaid between them yesterday.

Now he had the perfect opportunity to say everything. If he had her trapped in the elevator, she'd have to at least hear him out. It gave him less than a minute to explain his actions and confess his feelings, but it would have to be enough.

"Aren't you getting out?" she questioned.

He _had_ planned on picking a few things up, but there was no way he was getting out of the elevator and losing his chance to talk to her.

"No," he answered, shaking his head and clasping his hands in front of him.

She didn't want to get into the elevator with Elliot. His sudden appearance had rattled her and agitated her angry thoughts. She had to keep her emotions in check, and if she stepped onto the elevator, the chances of that happening were very slim.

No, she'd just take the stairs.

But her feet moved by themselves, her body once again betraying her sensible mind, and she found herself in the small square box with the man that affected her in more ways than one.

The doors closed, Elliot turned toward her and Olivia stopped breathing.

"Whatever you have to say, Elliot, I don't really want to hear it." Her tone was hard, but he heard the pain that lay underneath.

"Give me a chance to explain," he started.

Olivia turned to face him, anger flashing in her brown eyes.

"Elliot, I've given you chances. You're just determined to keep me in the dark about everything," she bit out in an accusing tone.

Her heated words surprised and worried him.

Olivia paused to take back control before adding in a heartbreaking whisper, "How long?"

She meant how long ago had he and Kathy ended their marriage. Elliot cringed because he knew she wasn't going to like the answer.

"Over a week," he said softly, "I was going to tell you sooner."

"No you weren't," she stated, the edge back in her voice. "You _never_ tell me the important stuff El."

The hurt she was feeling was clear as day, but he knew reaching for her—even to reassure her—would push her farther away.

"Olivia, I wanna tell you everything."

There were tears in her eyes when she looked up at him, but her cold voice still cut into him like a knife.

"I wish that were true. I do. But I know you better than that. Things aren't going to change, not for the better."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He felt like he had had this conversation before and, once again, things weren't going in his favor.

Olivia couldn't look at him. The elevator had reached the ground floor and she moved closer to the doors so she could make a run for it once they opened.

"It means that you've pushed me away for too long El, and I can't take it anymore. If you want to shut me out of parts of your life, maybe it would be better if I wasn't in it at all."

By the time she'd said the words, the doors had opened and she rushed out of the precinct and to the parking lot, trying to get away from him before her emotions got the best of her. Her lack of control was pathetic.

Elliot wasn't ready to give up. He still had things to tell her and, by God, he was going to say them. He chased after her until he reached her car.

"Olivia, I'm sorry," he huffed out. "And I know you deserve more than that from me. I want to give you an explanation."

She looked at him from where she was sitting in the driver's seat. "Go ahead," she encouraged, her voice small and pleading.

He really didn't know where to start. "I should've told you about Kathy. But I was still a little shocked. I mean, she just _abandoned_ the kids. They didn't know how to take that."

"She shouldn't have left the kids like that," Olivia put in.

Elliot continued, encouraged that she was responding to him. It meant she was listening. "After the kids adjusted, I…I didn't know how to tell _you_. I was afraid of how you'd react. Of what you'd say."

"I would've told you to work it out somehow," she commented quietly. "For the kids."

"Exactly, but there was nothing to work out. At least that's what Kathy told me. She said I couldn't fix it even if I tried."

His explanation was met with silence. Elliot knew she needed more.

"But that doesn't justify me keeping you out of the loop," he said as an apology.

"No, it doesn't." He couldn't tell if she was angry again or if she was just making a comment for the sake of conversation.

"Please, I don't deserve it, but I need you to forgive me. I need to know I can hold things together with you."

She took a moment to think. "If I say I forgive you right now, I won't mean it. And I _want_ to mean it….Just give me some time, El. Right now, I don't know whether to be mad at you or myself."

She was talking about the sex, Elliot guessed. She still felt guilty. In her mind she linked the sex with his divorce. She was wrong, of course, but it was going to take her a while to accept that.

"Don't blame yourself Liv," he told her. "It's not your fault that I love you."

She would have fallen if she hadn't already been sitting.

Had that really just come out of his mouth?

"_What?_" her question came out on a raspy breath, like she was choking on the air around her.

Okay, so he had just said it.

"I love you," he repeated, his cheeks heating with the words he. "Olivia, I love you." He liked how it sounded rolling off his tongue.

"Stop saying that," she snapped, wiping the smile from his face.

"Why?"

"Because you don't mean it. Y-you can't possibly mean it!"

She _wanted_ to believe it. She wanted to take him into her arms, tell him that she loved him back, and kiss the breath out of him. But she stopped herself because she felt that confession would just set her up for more heartache. Self-preservation kicked into gear.

"I do….I mean it," Elliot stammered her. This was not the way he'd imagined this conversation going. "God Liv, I've loved you for a long time."

"Elliot, stop," she exclaimed. "I can't hear this right now." She couldn't put up a fight anymore. She had to get of there.

"Move outta my way," she ordered, trying to close the door he was holding open. She fought to keep the tears from falling out of her eyes.

"Then I'll wait 'til you're ready to hear it," he mumbled, more to himself than to her.

"El, please…"

Reluctantly, Elliot stood up straight. Next thing he knew the door was shut and the engine roared to life. If he'd been standing any closer when she pulled out, his foot would have been run over.

He'd finally said what he'd been thinking for years. His feelings were released, out in the open. Now he just had to wait on her to be ready to come to him.

And he would wait for as long as he needed to.

***

Wednesday morning found Elliot heaving into the toilet bowl. Because he knew there wasn't any alcohol in his system, he placed the blame on a spontaneous virus. The kind he only got when he really didn't need them.

He had always hated taking time off of work, especially sick time. The fact that he'd only been back to work two days—and that he desperately wanted to see Olivia—didn't make it any better. But he'd called in sick just the same.

To put it simply, he felt like shit. His head began spinning when he stood for any length of time. His stomach wouldn't hold on to anything, not even coffee. He felt like someone had sucker punched him in the gut before hitting him across the forehead with a hot fire-poker.

He'd resigned himself to the fact that he would just have to stay home and recuperate. He'd face the consequences later, and his partner. He didn't even feel like getting out of bed.

"Dad?" Lizzie called from outside his door.

"You can come in," he grumbled, flinching at the light from the hallway.

"Phone's for you," she told him, handing over the cordless house phone. "It's Olivia."

"Olivia?" he asked.

She nodded, and then placed her hand over the mouthpiece before saying, "And she sounds pretty pissed off. Thought I'd warn you."

"Thanks."

Lizzie left, shutting the door behind her. Elliot sighed and put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"You've got some balls to call in sick, El." His daughter was right. She was pissed.

His head couldn't take a screaming match over the phone.

"Is there a purpose to this call beyond tearing me a new one?" he retorted, imitating her tone.

"We've got a case. We…I could really use your help." There was something in her voice that told him this was about more than just the case.

He knew he didn't really have a choice. Not if he wanted Olivia's forgiveness.

Damn he had the worst timing when it came to getting sick.

"Well? Can I count on you being there?" She'd thrown her gauntlet.

This was a challenge he couldn't refuse.

"Where d'ya need me?" he asked.

"Meet me at Bellevue Hospital. I'm at the crime scene now." Something about her tone lightened with his agreement.

"I'll be there," he promised.

"Good. See you within the hour."

***

He was at the nurse's station to greet her when she walked in, her leather coat sporting a dusting of snow from the early December weather.

"Our vic's in room 247 of ICU. She's still unconscious. But, the neighbor's awake and ready to give a statement. She's down the hall," Elliot reported. "You get anything from the crime scene?"

Just that short speech left him winded and he had to split his focus between breathing normally and listening to her.

Olivia looked him over and felt bad for accusing him of faking sick. His appearance told her he hadn't been lying and she softened immediately.

"Yeah," she answered, trying to push her concern for her partner to the side so she could focus on the case at hand.

"Our victim, Chelsea Verden, was sodomized with a metal meat tenderizer before being beaten with it," she told him solemnly. She couldn't begin to imagine the pain the twelve-year-old had gone through.

"Jesus," Elliot swore, pain clouding his eyes before he glanced away from her. She knew he was thinking of his own children. Lizzie was only a few years older than their victim.

She wanted to distract him from thinking about the case for a moment. She didn't want him thinking about the gruesome crime.

"You don't look too good," she commented as she stepped closer.

"I'll be fine," he replied.

Olivia was unconvinced. She could hear his labored, uneven breathing and see his sallow skin. His eyes were tired. Without warning she raised one hand and felt his forehead with the back of it.

"Elliot you're burning up."

As much as he loved her touching him and showing him concern, he wanted to focus on the case and not his sickness. It could wait.

"I probably just have whatever Eli had," he reasoned, never breaking stride as they made their way down the hall.

"How is he?" she asked, not wanting to push the conversation to anywhere he didn't want it to go. She wasn't sure where she stood with him right now. Their partnership was on shaky ground and she was determined to not be the one to wreck it compeltely.

Elliot always cracked a smile when he thought of his youngest son. "He's better. Fever's gone and the puking stopped."

"Always encouraging," she quipped. "I guess he just passed his fever on to you. Is he back at daycare?"

He shook his head. "No. Lizzie and Dickie are off school today. Parent-teacher conferences. Lizzie's watching him for me."

"How's Dickie?" It was the first question that could lead them down the road she had wanted to avoid, but knew they had to travel eventually.

Elliot was surprised by her question but was happy she was willing to address the subject. It was progress for them. "I'd like to say he's better too, but I might be lying. He still won't talk to me," he told her.

"I'm sorry." She felt the need to apologize.

"Nah, it'll be okay. He'll come around in a few days. He's just taking the divorce hard. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine," Elliot said.

At the mention of the divorce, Olivia decided it would be best to shy away from the topic. They were standing outside of the neighbor's room anyway, just staring at each other.

He saw the shift in her eyes and knew the conversation was over.

"Ready?" she asked.

"After you," he responded.

Olivia entered the room first and Elliot followed.

"Ms. Ford, I'm Detective Benson and this is my partner, Detective Stabler."

"Please, call me Miranda."

Except for the bandage wrapping around her head and covering one side of her face, Miranda seemed to be dealing with the fact that she'd been clobbered in the side of the head with a meat tenderizer rather well.

Her eyes were bright, if not a little glassy because of the pain medication she was on. She even had a smile ready for the detectives.

"Miranda, we're here to ask you a few questions. Are you up to it?" Elliot asked in a gentlemanly fashion.

"Oh yes," the woman answered. She appeared to be in her later fifties.

"Good," Olivia responded in a soft voice. "Can you tell us what happened?"

Miranda didn't need a moment to think, indicating to Olivia that she'd been replaying the nightmare over and over in her head while she'd been awake.

"Well, I heard screaming and banging through my apartment wall. It sounded like things were being thrown around and I became quite worried. Chelsea's often home alone, and I've always tried to keep an eye out for her. I never thought I'd need to though."

She was lost to her own memories for a moment and Elliot had to guide her back with a prompt. "Is that when you called the police? When you heard the commotion?"

"Yes. I called them. They told me to stay in my apartment, but I couldn't do that. Sometimes the police are very slow at getting where they need to be." The woman blushed slightly. "I didn't mean that in an offensive way."

"It's okay," Olivia said with a small smile. "So you went to Chelsea's apartment?"

She nodded, her eyes getting misty. "The door wasn't shut completely. I went inside. I…I saw Chelsea on the floor. She wasn't screaming anymore….And a man was standing over her. H-he had something in his hand and he kept hit-hitting her until he saw m-me."

They didn't need to hear anymore about the assault. Olivia knew the recollection was disturbing the woman.

"Did you get a look at his face? Could you describe him to a sketch artist?" she asked.

"Most certainly. I got a decent look at him before he hit me. I remember his face."

With their thanks and a promise to send a sketch artist in as soon as possible, the detectives left Miranda to rest.

As they walked back down to the nurses' station, they talked about the case. They were hopeful that Miranda would be able to give the sketch artist a good description so they could catch the man who had done this to Chelsea.

"Has there been any change?" Elliot asked one of the nurses.

Even though the hospital was as busy as usual, the nurse knew which patient he was referring to.

"Her bones have all been set again. The doctor's still finishing with the stitches. That girl's in a lot of pain," the nurse remarked sadly.

"Is she awake?" Olivia didn't mean for it to sound so uncaring. There were times when she didn't think anyone could care about the victims like she did. But the sooner they were able to talk to Chelsea, the sooner they could find out who had done this to her.

The nurse didn't like the question. "She's not in any shape to be having questions thrown down her throat, detective," she ground out.

"Ma'am," Elliot began, using his charm to try and gain an audience with the victim. "If we can just get a name from her, we can get the criminal off the streets. We won't be two minutes. Please…" he finished.

Olivia heard the raspy quality of his voice, and although it was working to their advantage with the nurse, she knew that his sudden difficulty breathing wasn't because of his concern for the victim.

"Alright," the nurse said reluctantly. "But _only_ two minutes."

"Thank you," Elliot muttered before he and Olivia turned in the direction of the Intensive Care Unit.

"You can't be in here," the doctor told them when they walked in, as he packed up his suture kit.

"We're detectives," Olivia said, flashing him her badge. "We need to ask Chelsea a few questions."

"Not right now you don't."

"Detectives?" the girl piped up from her bed, her voice shaky, untrusting.

"Yes Chelsea," Olivia confirmed in a soft voice she only used when speaking with a victim. "Do you know who did this to you?"

"No questions!" the doctor nearly shouted. "She needs rest. Can't you see that?" He was just trying to be protective.

It was obvious that Chelsea was going to need a lot of rest and time to heal from her injuries, but time was of the essence. Chelsea seemed to know this as well.

"No, I want to answer them," she said weakly.

"Go on," Elliot encouraged from where he was standing in the back of the room, trying not to encroach on her space. He knew female victims were often threatened by his presence, and so he did all in his power to be present, but not overpowering.

"His name is Erik Donovan. He's my g-godfather," Chelsea told them, breaking down into tears with her words.

Olivia stepped forward and grasped her hand, the one that wasn't broken and in a cast. The perpetrator had done massive amounts of damage to her arms and legs. She guessed his intention wasn't to kill his goddaughter, just beat her to within an inch of her life.

Luckily Chelsea's neighbor had interrupted the beating before he could carry out his sadistic goal to the fullest extent.

"We'll catch him Chelsea," Olivia promised with a whisper. "He won't be able to hurt you or anyone else ever again."

The pre-teen continued to cry. "Thank you," she told Olivia. She shifted her head so she could thank Elliot too, but her face twisted in confusion.

"Is he okay?" she asked.

Olivia turned back to her partner. "Elliot?" she questioned, concern and a little fear accompanying the word.

Elliot couldn't hear what the people in the room were saying. Olivia's mouth was moving but no sound reached his ears. He was dizzy, letting the wall he was leaning against hold him up.

Elliot saw her mouth his name again, but he didn't have the breath to tell her what was wrong, to tell her his heart was palpitating inside his chest and that he was nauseous again.

The room was unbearably hot. He could feel sweat sliding down his face. Dark spots crept into the corners of his eyes and he knew what was coming next.

Olivia saw him start to collapse and she stepped forward in time for him to slump into her arms.

"Elliot!" she yelled into his ear, but she got no response.

***

It had been nearly two hours since Elliot had been taken away on a gurney. The doctors told her they were running tests. They weren't running them fast enough for Olivia. She wanted answers. She wanted to know what was wrong with her partner, if he was going to be okay.

His unexpected collapse almost worried her more than when Bushido had shot him. Gunshots she understood. Mysterious fainting spells left too many unanswered questions and too many frightening possibilities.

In the few moments she wasn't busy worrying, Olivia stopped by Miranda Ford's room again to see how she was doing with the sketch artist. She'd also visited Chelsea again, but hadn't gone into the sleeping girl's room. She'd even taken a moment to make phone calls. One went to Cragen to update him on the case and tell him about Elliot's sudden collapse. The other was placed to Kathy. Pure relief washed over her when the woman didn't answer the phone.

She hadn't called any of the Stabler children because she didn't want to worry them when she didn't have any answers.

Now she was back to pacing and wringing her hands as she stood in the emergency room waiting area.

"Mrs. Stabler?" a blonde doctor asked, removing his surgical mask as he approached her.

"It's Detective Benson," she corrected without much gusto. "I'm his partner. What's going on?"

The young doctor looked like he wasn't going to answer, but must have changed his mind when she glared at him. "He's out of surgery now."

"You had to operate?" Olivia interrupted loudly, angry that she hadn't been informed. What if something had happened to him?

"It was a simple, but necessary, procedure. We had to remove the infected tissue from his shoulder and arm wounds."

"They were infected," she repeated for clarification. "How did that happen?"

The man looked irritated with her interruptions, but didn't say so. "We don't have conclusive results yet," he said, then hurried to say the rest of the prognosis. "Most likely it's a Staph infection resulting from improper care of the gunshot wounds. But it could have been transferred through simply touching the bacteria. If his immune system was weak from stress or for any other reason, he'd be more likely to pick it up. At this point, there's no sure way to tell."

"So, why did he get sudden symptoms and faint? Is that from the infection?"

"The Staph infection made its way into his blood stream, where it turned into something called Sepsis. That's what brought on the labored breathing and the increase in heart rate and his other symptoms."

"It's treatable right? He's going to be okay?" There was worry in her voice.

"With strong antibiotics he'll recover just fine. But we're going to keep him here at least overnight."

"Thank you," she said. "Can I see him?"

He nodded. "I think he'd like that. He's in recovery now."

"Thank you," she repeated before heading in the direction of the recovery wing.

Once she found his room, she went in, taking note of the different machines he was hooked up to and the sling holding up his left arm.

"Hey," he greeted, sounding surprised. "What're you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Chelsea or out finding the bastard that put her in here?"

"Munch and Fin took over. They have the sketch Miranda Ford supplied and they're looking for him now. Cragen told me to stay here."

"Oh, so it's not voluntary," he replied, sounding disappointed.

She ignored his pout. She'd come to another realization while she'd been waiting to hear if he was alright. Now she just had to find a way to tell him.

"You know, I don't really like seeing you in the hospital," she began as she took up a seat beside his bed. "Don't you think you could stay out of here for a month?"

"Sorry."

"I forgive you," she said, then added, "I'll forgive you for _everything_ as long as you don't ever scare me like that again."

Was she really taking the leap to accept what had happened between them and forgive him for not telling her about things sooner? He almost couldn't believe it.

"Will you mean it?" he asked, his question sincere.

"Yes," she responded truthfully.

He couldn't contain a smile. "Okay. Deal."

She'd managed to say part of what she'd wanted to, but there was more.

"The doctor said that you're probably in here because you didn't clean your wounds properly," she reported, deciding for herself that it was the more probable cause.

"I cleaned them," he protested. "I didn't have your magic bubbles though."

She smiled without showing her teeth. She remembered blowing on his wounds as she'd cleaned hem just over two weeks ago.

"I'll be more than happy to blow peroxide bubbles for you if it means keeping you out of the hospital."

It was his turn to grin. "So you do care," he commented.

"In sickness and in health," she said, quoting a common wedding vow that she found fitting for whatever it was they had. "I think that rule applies to partnerships too."

Her words made his lips curl up in a goofy grin.

She reached for his hand and he entwined their fingers together.

"I'll _always_ be here for you, El."

"Same here." He wanted to say that he loved her again, but he didn't want to ruin the moment she was giving him.

She was grateful that he wasn't pushing her to say what he wanted to hear. Again, she found herself torn between saving their partnership and telling him how she truly felt about him.

She did love him. Probably for a lot longer than he had loved her. But she just wasn't able to say it out loud.

"I'll always care…" she told him softly, tears clogging her throat and blurring her vision. It was the closest she was going to come to saying the three little words that would either tear her world apart or make it that much better.

Elliot needed to show how her words affected him without words. Silently he lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of hers.

"When you're ready," he told her. "I'll wait."

She nodded before wiping at the tears that had escaped the black bars framing the cells of her eyes.

"For a little while at least," he added in a joking manner.

She laughed a little and they fell into the first easy silence they'd had in a while.

Naturally it wasn't long before they were interrupted. Ringing sounded from her hip and she glanced at the caller ID.

"It's Munch. I'd better take this," she told Elliot before walking out of the room. Phones were strictly forbidden in the ICU, but if Munch was calling her it was for a good reason. Maybe he and Fin had gotten a lucky break on the case.

"Make it quick Munch," she answered in lieu of her standard greeting. "The nurses will ban me if they see me on the phone."

The older man chuckled softly into the receiver. He must have been in a good mood to be laughing, which immediately gave Olivia hope for an open and shut case.

"Well then, I'll just tell you the good news. Our perp was brought in by a uniform five minutes ago."

"He turn himself in?" She was impressed with the quick apprehension of the perpetrator.

"Just about. After he fled the scene of the crime he decided to go to a local bar. He started bragging to the bartender after a few gin and tonics."

The idea that anyone could brag about abusing and nearly killing a little girl made her sick, but Olivia was glad the bastard was off the streets.

Munch continued talking. "The good bartender kept supplying him with free drinks until the uniforms showed up. We're waiting for him to sober up before we read him his rights."

"I'll be sure to tell Elliot. Is that all?"

"Suppose so. How's your partner?"

"Stable. I'll give you an update later. Nurse is coming down the hallway."

She didn't wait for a goodbye and snapped the phone shut.

Her smile was gaining wattage with each passing moment and she entered Elliot's room looking forward to telling him they'd caught the sonofabitch who'd abused his goddaughter.

Even before she approached the bed, she knew he was asleep. The oxygen mask had helped even out his breathing and the heart rate monitor was beeping at a steady pace. Although she had good news, she didn't want to wake him.

She'd just settled herself into the chair beside his bed again when her phone rang a second time.

Thinking it was Munch, she flipped the phone open as she quickly ducked out of the room again.

"What is it?" she asked.

What she heard was not Munch's voice. And there were too many noises in the background to identify the speaker immediately.

"Olivia," the voice cracked and broke with fear. "Olivia, you have to help us."

She recognized that voice now.

"Lizzie? What's going on?" She could barely hear over all the noise.

Eli was crying and throwing a fit somewhere close to the phone. And someone else was screaming. It was a woman. Olivia started trotting down the hospital hallway; she knew that this wasn't something that could wait.

"She's trying to get Eli. She wants to take him away," Lizzie told Olivia before screaming, "Go away mom! You're not taking him with you!"

Kathy's voice could be heard returning the yell. "Elizabeth Anne Stabler, you let me in this door right now!" Banging accompanied the order.

"No! Go away!"

The teenager was breathing so hard Olivia was afraid she was going to hyperventilate and pass out. She needed to calm her down.

"Lizzie, where are you in the house?" she asked loudly over the crying and yelling and door pounding.

"The bedroom. Eli was sleeping. She's trying to take him Livia." The detective could hear the tears in her voice.

"Okay, calm down."

But Lizzie wasn't listening. She was screaming at her mother again. From what she could hear over the phone, Kathy had stopped using her fists to hit the door and was using her shoulder.

Olivia tried to get the terrified girl's attention again. Even though she was getting into her car, she knew she'd never get there before Kathy got through the door and did something stupid.

"Lizzie, honey, you need to hang up with me and call the police."

That comment finally broke through.

"You are the police!" she yelled at Olivia.

Between yelling at her mother and Olivia, Lizzie Stabler was nearly in hysterics.

"Lizzie—" Olivia started, but was cut off by the unmistakable sound of a door crashing open. Olivia could picture the wood splintering, followed by the image of an angry woman storming into the room.

Lizzie was screaming again, in true panic.

"Get. Out. Get out. Getout!"she repeated.

"Move!" her mother yelled back. "I'm taking my son!"

"No!" Lizzie bellowed.

Olivia was completely powerless to do anything but listen even as her sirens helped her part traffic. She was still at least fifteen minutes away from the Stabler home. She just prayed that Kathy wasn't armed.

"Lizzie get out of my way!"

The next thing Olivia heard was a loud crash in her ear as the phone dropped to the floor.

"Lizzie?" She yelled the question.

She heard the two women grunting and screaming at each other as they scuffled. Eli's cries had grown louder.

Then there was a sickening thud and all the screaming suddenly stopped. Someone had fallen to the floor.

"Lizzie?" she yelled again, hoping the teenager wasn't seriously hurt.

"Shh…." It was Kathy's voice. She was soothing Eli. "Everything's going to be okay now, baby boy."

The child's cries slowly faded as he was taken out of the room, leaving Olivia with a heavy silence.

She tried calling Lizzie's name one last time, but when she didn't get as much as a grumble, Olivia ended the call.

As her car practically flew down the road, she radioed the local Queens police station to tell them about the altercation and abduction of a detective's son.

"Shit," she exclaimed once she had sent out the alert.

* * *

**A/N: Well how's that for a cliffhanger? I hope it has you looking forward to what's to come in what _could be_ the last chapter. This story has already gone farther than I expected and I'm so happy that you've all stuck with me, but I don't want to stretch this on forever and ever.**

**But don't worry. I've got some other stories cooking up on the back burner that I'll be happy to share. :)**

**Everyone have a Happy New Year!**

**Only five days until SVU returns! Yay!**


	5. Rough Waters

**A/N: Hello all! Sorry it took me awhile to get this right, but I couldn't post until I was satisfied. That said, I think this chapter sums things up nicely. This is the last chapter, but I still have some things to say:**

**1.) I would like to thank _everyone_ who has taken their time to read and/or review this story. It means so much to read the opinions and encouragement you all have given me. Thank you all sooo much!**

**2.) I need to thank my cousin, who helped me brainstorm ideas and listened to me read her my rough drafts. I'd also like to thank my friend Em, who listens to all my blabbering about SVU every day even though she's never seen the show. Haha. Mucho thanks to both of you.**

**3.) I was mean to you guys and left you with Eli and Lizzie in mortal danger and Kathy on the fritz. This chap picks up right where I left off.**

**Please leave me a comment after you're done reading to tell me how you liked (or disliked) the conclusion to this story. And, as always, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf continues to hold the rights to these characters and the show, not me. Isn't that sad?**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Rough Waters**

The last thing Olivia was concerned about was her parking job. Her haste to get to Lizzie and see if she was okay overrode everything else. Half of the sedan was still on the road while the front end stretched over the sidewalk and into the Stabler's lawn. Even as she threw the gearshift into park, she was opening her door and getting out.

Olivia's eyes lingered on the ambulance sitting in the driveway and her stomach did somersaults. That could only mean one of two things; Lizzie wasn't hurt or—she gagged with fear—there was no use for an ambulance because she was too late.

"Bring me up to speed," Olivia barked at an officer, flashing him her badge. "Where's Elizabeth Stabler?" She was yelling at the poor man, but she wasn't completely in control of her anger right now.

The male officer scratched the scruff on the side of his face while he gave his report. "Girl's inside with EMS. We have an Amber Alert out on the other kid. No hits yet."

"Get a tracker on her credit cards. If she's on the run, she'll use them," she ordered.

He nodded and reached for his radio. Olivia was glad that someone else was devoted to finding Eli quickly. With a few other instructions, Olivia walked through the open front door.

"Lizzie?" she called.

"Livia?"

Her ears pinpointed the girl's response and she darted toward the kitchen.

"Livia!" Lizzie exclaimed when she saw her. Tear stains marked her cheeks, and there were plenty of fresh tears brimming in her eyes. An EMT was crouched before her, shining a penlight in both of her eyes. The girl tried to stand but the uniformed woman instructed her to stay in the kitchen chair.

"You've gotta find them! Mom's got Eli!" she cried, pushing away the EMT's busy hands.

Olivia came over and knelt on the kitchen floor in front of her partner's youngest daughter. The EMT politely stepped away but hovered close by.

"I'll get him back," she promised.

Suddenly Lizzie pitched forward and wrapped her arms around the detective's neck. It was clear the whole ordeal had left the sixteen-year-old shaken. Olivia could tell because her body shook with her sobs.

"I couldn't s-top h-her," she began, the words hardly discernable. "I s-should've never let her in. It's all m-my fault."

"No," Olivia stated, finding her confident, victim voice. She stroked Lizzie's hair as she spoke. "This is _not_ your fault. You should be able to trust your own mother. This is _her_ fault."

The teenager wouldn't be consoled. "If anything happens to Eli, I…Oh God!" If it was possible, the anguish in her eyes intensified. "Dad's gonna freak!"

"Please try and calm down," the EMT said as she tried to pull Lizzie away from Olivia's neck, but her vice-like grip only tightened.

"Detective," the woman said, trying to appeal to the more rational party. "We can't wait anymore. She could have a concussion. She needs to go to the hospital."

"A concussion?" Olivia nearly yelled, "Why is she still here?"

"I wouldn't leave without seeing you," Lizzie explained, now gripping Olivia's forearms and looking her in the eye. "And I'll be fine."

Olivia had heard and given that excuse enough times to know it was never true. She was about to tell her she was sending her to the hospital when another fearful voice entered the room.

"Liz? Oh my God….What happened?"

Dickie Stabler rushed to his twin's side and Lizzie traded Olivia's damp shirt for his dry one. He hugged her tightly then pulled back to look at her face. There was a large red circle near her right temple and Olivia guessed that in a few hours it would be a nasty bruise.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, the anger Olivia was feeling expressed in his voice.

Lizzie hesitated before answering. Olivia guessed she didn't want her brother to throw a fit. He had a right to though, in Olivia's opinion.

"Mom," she said quietly. "She pushed me…and I hit my head on the floor. Dick…she took Eli." The tears had reemerged to claim another shirt.

Her brother held her for another moment before asking, "Does Dad know? Where is he?"

That question was directed at Olivia. The kids still didn't know about Elliot and his sudden hospitalization. Well, now was the time to tell them, even if the timing was horrible.

"Your dad's in the hospital."

"'In?' As in he's the patient?" Dickie questioned.

She nodded, which made Lizzie's eyes widen. "What's wrong with him?"

"He had complications from his gunshot wounds. But he'll be fine," she rushed to add when the girl gasped.

"Well isn't this fucking perfect?" Dickie muttered.

Olivia ignored his rising temper because she knew he was overwhelmed and worried. Worried for his sister. His brother. Even his dad, whether he'd admit to it or not.

The twins were trying to cope with the chaos that had unexpectedly invaded their world, but Olivia needed to push for answers.

"Lizzie, honey, can you tell me what happened?" she asked in a soothing voice. She waved the exasperated EMT away so they could have some privacy.

Lizzie nodded as she pulled away from her brother's shoulder, wiping away her tears. Olivia took one of her fidgeting hands in hers.

"It's okay," she told her.

"You can do it," Dickie said, instinctively taking hold of her free hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

"She said she only stopped by to pick up a few things," the girl started.

Olivia guessed that by "things" she hadn't thought her mother had meant her baby brother.

Lizzie continued, gaining confidence as she spoke. "I asked her why she just left us. How she could just leave and not even say goodbye."

"What'd she say?" her brother asked.

"That she needed a break. I told her she couldn't stop being a parent because she felt like it." She paused to look at her brother. "Then I asked her about Dave. If she left us to be with him."

"Who's Dave?" Olivia interjected, feeling like she was missing a key piece of information.

Dickie was visibly angry now. "Some jackass that our mom's been screwing for like two years now," he ground out, a vein in the side of his neck pulsing.

"What?" Olivia was shocked, if not by the fact that Kathy was a cheater, then by how long it had been going on. Had Elliot known?

"It started before Mom and Dad got back together," Lizzie explained, disgust lacing her words. "But it never stopped. Even after Eli was born."

"Since Dad's never around she had plenty of time with him," Dickie added. "She stopped being discreet about it a few months ago. Like she _wanted_ to get caught."

"But Dad still doesn't know," Lizzie finished.

Olivia filed the information away. "Do you know Dave's last name?" she asked, thinking it might be a lead to finding Kathy and Eli's location.

Both teenagers shook their heads.

It was a disappointment, but Olivia pushed forward, trying to extract the details of the abduction from Lizzie in the hopes of finding Eli faster.

"What happened after you asked about Dave?"

Lizzie took a shaky breath. "She flipped. I mean, she went completely nuts. She started swearing left and right and told me I 'couldn't possibly understand.' Then she screamed that she was taking Eli with her. I told her no. I said if she wanted to be with Dave, that was fine, but she couldn't take Eli near that piece of shit."

She paused again and Olivia saw the pain spread across her eyes. Olivia had an idea of how the rest of the situation had played out.

"We both started running for the door at the same time, but I beat her and locked it before she could get in. Then I called you," she said, her gaze turning to Olivia's eyes, but she dropped it almost immediately. "But…she…"

"Shh…" Olivia breathed, rubbing Lizzie's forearm and squeezing her hand. "It's okay." She gave the teenager a moment to regain her composure before asking, "Did your mom mention where she might go?"

"Don't you think she would've told you that already?" Dickie snapped.

Surprisingly it was Lizzie who reacted first to his outburst.

"Dick, don't be mad at her, 'kay? Just forget about what you saw. She's here to help us."

The boy blushed at being reprimanded by his sister. Olivia paled because somehow Lizzie had found out about her and Elliot having sex. What was more surprising was that she didn't seem to have a problem with it.

"I'm not mad at her," he mumbled.

He turned to Olivia. "Thanks for being here for my sister," he said sincerely. "I should've been here."

That comment earned him a whack on the back of the head from his twin. "Don't say that. It's not your fault," Lizzie stated. "It's mom's."

Olivia smiled inwardly, happy that her message had gotten through.

"Detective Benson?" the unshaven officer from the porch called from the hallway. "We've got a hit off one of the credit cards for a motel room."

Olivia jumped to her feet, as did the two teenagers. Lizzie swayed slightly and her brother helped her to balance.

"Okay, you're going to the hospital," Olivia declared, signaling one of the two EMTs to come and get their reluctant new ward.

"I'll be fine," she protested, although her white-knuckled grip on her brother's arm said otherwise.

"There's no discussion here. You're going." She rounded on Dickie. "And you're going with her," she told him.

Unlike his sister, he didn't argue with her decision. He only nodded and followed Lizzie and the EMTs to the front door, but Olivia stopped him to make a request. She knew Elliot was going to go ballistic when he found out what had happened, especially since she was having his own son tell him. She didn't want him to be pissed off at her, but she couldn't give him news like this over the phone. It had to be face-to-face. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be _her_ face he screamed at.

"You'll let your dad know what's going on, right?" she asked, feeling horrible for making Dickie her scapegoat.

He nodded.

"Can you ask him to try and not hate me?" she asked.

Dickie gave her a grim smile that made him look too old for his age. "He won't hate you. I don't think he ever could."

With that, Dickie left to catch the ambulance to Bellevue while Olivia was left to catch a kidnapper.

***

Molly's Motel was a seedy establishment in an equally seedy neighborhood on the Lower East Side. The building stood two stories high and had been a blank canvas for local artists to graffiti. From what she could see at street level, two rooms were boarded up completely and many other rooms had busted windows. Olivia knew what was housed here: drug-dealers and addicts with the occasional desperate prostitute. And they'd have to be _really _desperate.

Maybe the credit card company had been mistaken. Kathy had the money to stay someplace nicer, someplace safer. Olivia couldn't imagine anyone bringing a child to this neighborhood and the idea of finding Eli here made her stomach churn.

Kathy had rented a room directly above the office. The plated "4" that had once marked the room had either fallen off or been stolen, leaving only the shadow of the number on the door.

Olivia stood near the handle and Karl, the officer from the Stabler home, stood on the other side of the doorway. Two other officers cut off possible escape routes should Kathy try and run past them.

They had decided surprise was their best strategy. Right now Kathy would be off guard. She was also unpredictable and certainly unstable. No woman in her right mind would break down a door in her _own_ home, fight with her _own_ daughter, and kidnap her _own_ son. Because they didn't know what she would do when cornered, Olivia and the other officers determined it was better to surprise her and not give her the opportunity to harm the child.

Silently, Olivia nodded to Karl and he returned the gesture, telling her he was ready to go in. Gripping her gun in her hands, she turned to face the motel door before delivering a powerful kick next to the handle, the point where the door would give most easily.

The door flew open and Olivia rushed into the musty smelling room with the uniformed officer right behind her. Their guns were held in front of them and their eyes were alert.

Inside, the sight that greeted them almost made Olivia's knees buckle.

No one was there.

No sign of Kathy or Eli.

Olivia's knees first shook with relief because Eli wasn't there, but then shook even more violently for the same reason.

Yes, Eli wasn't at Molly's Motel. But that meant he was somewhere else, possibly hurt or worse.

"Clear," the other officer said as he emerged from the bathroom and holstered his weapon. But Olivia had already realized Kathy wasn't there.

Her eyes scanned the room. It was obvious that someone _had_ been staying in the room recently. The bed was unmade and there were cartons of Chinese takeout on the nightstand. Olivia looked more closely at the food. There weren't any roaches or other insects moving among the lo mein noodles, which she was sure there would be if the food had been sitting there, unattended, for any length of time.

Olivia maneuvered around Karl and went into the bathroom. The shower curtain was wet, just as she'd thought it would be.

"They haven't been gone long," she announced as she joined the officer in looking for clues as to where they could've gone.

"Maybe we'll get something off the Amber Alert," her temporary partner offered.

Olivia knew they couldn't wait for a lucky break, even though the civilian alert system had helped in numerous other cases.

Next to the black telephone there was a notepad bearing the motel monogram—well it was a pad of sticky notes with "MM" scribbled on the corner of every page. Nothing was written on the top sheet but Olivia hoped Kathy had used it recently. Her credit card had been billed for some lengthy phone calls. If she had written a message, the imprint may offer up some clue to where she and Eli were.

Gently, she ran her fingertips over the paper and she felt the slightest ridges press against her skin.

"Find me a pencil," she called out.

A moment later she was carefully shading over the impression until letters started to appear. Her heart raced as the message unfolded before her.

"What does this look like to you?" she asked the officer who was hovering over her shoulder.

Karl examined it closely before answering, "East P. 43. Eight o'clock," he read. "Sounds like a meeting time to me."

Olivia nodded as she pocketed the pad of paper. "She's meeting someone at pier 43 along the East River," she stated for herself. She didn't know if she was relieved to know where Kathy and Eli had gone or scared that the unstable woman was going to meet someone on the East River and taking Eli with her.

She glanced down at her watch and panicked just a little.

"It's 7:50," she said, "Let's go."

***

Elliot hated being kept in the hospital.

He hated it even more now that Olivia had disappeared somewhere.

His best guess was that she'd left to work on the Chelsea Verden case. The last thing he remembered was Munch calling and Olivia stepping out of his room to answer it. The mix of antibiotics and morphine for his shoulder had forced him to fall asleep before she had returned.

Now it was six-thirty and Elliot didn't know what to do with himself. His shoulder was hurting again, but he didn't want to take more morphine and risk being asleep if and when his partner came back.

"No, just when," he corrected himself.

She'd turn up eventually.

At least he hoped so. There was a lot they had to talk about.

He still smiled at her words before Munch's call had interrupted.

_I'll always care._ She'd come so close to letting go of whatever was stopping her from admitting the truth. And the truth was she loved him. He saw it in her eyes. If that observation was cocky, he didn't care. It was accurate. She couldn't deny her feelings for him much longer.

Elliot watched the minute hand slowly creep around the analog clock as it counted down the remaining hours he was forced to stay in the ICU for his Sepsis infection. He thought the order was ridiculous and unnecessary, but unless his partner needed him, he was happy to rest his sore shoulder for a while.

Elliot was busy playing with the bed adjustment buttons for some form of entertainment when a knock came at the door.

"Come in," he said as he tilted his bed into an upright position.

He was surprised to see his oldest son walk through the door.

"Hey Dad," he said as he shuffled into the room. "You okay?"

"I'll be fine," his father responded. "How'd you know where I was? Liv call you?"

Dickie wasn't entirely sure how he was going to tell his father about what had happened.

"Not exactly," he replied.

There was something in his tone that told Elliot his son wasn't telling him everything. Dickie was fidgeting and shifting his weight from foot to foot. He was definitely hiding something.

"Dick? What is it?"

His son looked like he was between crying and shouting. Whatever had happened had made him extremely upset. Elliot patted the side of the hospital bed and waited for his son to sit down before squeezing his shoulder.

"Tell me," Elliot said, his voice as gentle as possible.

Dickie started shaking, but it was the anger in his voice that told Elliot his son was shaking with rage.

"Mom came to the house….I wasn't there. She…she knocked Liz out and took Eli." His hands were fisted at his sides and he slammed them into the bed repeatedly.

"She just took him!" he bellowed.

"What?" Elliot shouted, his own anger instantly ignited.

Dickie took another moment to fill in the details that he knew, which didn't amount to much. He left out the part about Dave. He didn't want his father to have a heart attack.

"I'm sorry Dad. I should've been there."

The regret in his son's voice caught his attention. Elliot wrapped his uninjured arm around the front of his son, gripping one of his shoulders as he drew him in for an awkward, one-armed hug. "No. You could've been hurt. You couldn't have stopped her," he said gruffly into his son's hair.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Elliot's hatred for Kathy grew inside of him like a fatal virus. If he had the opportunity right now, he'd kill his ex-wife. Put a gun in his hand and he'd put it between her eyes. She'd hurt one of their children and kidnapped another. She didn't deserve forgiveness and he knew he'd never forgive her. Even if the Lord himself asked him to, he didn't think he had it in him.

Kathy had dragged and pushed and pulled him through a lot of bullshit in the time they'd been together, but this?

_This_ took the fucking cake.

It took Elliot a lot of effort to breathe normally and lower his heart rate back to normal. He was surprised a nurse hadn't come in to check on him.

"You're sister okay?" he asked as he regained some semblance of control.

"She's waiting for a CT scan to see how bad her concussion is. Should be soon now."

"Why don't you go sit with her?"

It was an order not so cleverly disguised as a question. His father was trying to get rid of him; Dickie wasn't dense enough to miss that.

"Dad, what're you gonna do?" He was planning something. Dickie could see it in his eyes.

For once his father didn't dance around the topic.

"I'm going after them."

"Olivia's already on it," Dickie reminded him. "You should stay here. Recover."

At the mention of his partner, Elliot's heart rate increased a little. He was pissed at her too. She should've told him—if not as soon as she found out—then as soon as she'd sent his kids to the hospital. Instead, she'd made his son play messenger-boy.

Yeah, he was mad, but once he had his son back and Kathy behind bars, he was sure he'd realize she had a perfectly logical reason for neglecting to tell him.

Dickie saw the change in his father's demeanor, saw the anger in his eyes. Maybe Olivia's prediction had been right.

"Don't be mad at her," Dickie all but ordered, his chest puffing out in challenge. "She only tried to help. She was there for Lizzie and me. She's out there trying to find Mom and Eli right now. Don't hate her because of that. You should be thanking her."

Elliot was taken back by his son's sudden defense of Olivia.

"I thought you hated her," he began.

"I never hated _her_," Dickie interrupted, a blush staining his cheeks, "I hated _you_." His son sounded almost exasperated with his explanation. There was no anger in his voice, just annoyance, as if Elliot didn't understand the teen's thought process.

"I see," Elliot remarked. "You still hate me?"

"No." Annoyance and a sigh. Was that supposed to be considered a sincere response?

"Really?" he pushed.

"Dad, I'm not gonna say I'm not weirded out by it, but I think you're old enough to decide who you sleep with."

Elliot suppressed a laugh. "Ya think?"

"Yeah. I just don't wanna walk in on that again, okay?" He gave an exaggerated cringe.

Elliot did laugh then, but it was brief. He hadn't forgotten about his young son being held God knew where by his clearly crazy ex-wife.

He took the oxygen tubes out of his nose and removed the sticky pad above his heart that was monitoring its beats. The machine let out a continuous high screech of protest while displaying an unwavering line on the screen.

That got the doctor's attention.

Seconds later the door to his room burst open and his doctor and two nurses rushed in with a crash cart, calling orders to one another.

All three figures stopped abruptly when they saw Elliot standing there, already slipping into the pants he'd been wearing earlier that day. One nurse was ogling his bare chest. Dickie was standing in the corner of the room covering his mouth to hide his smile.

"What are you doing?" the doctor asked, the first of their trio to recover.

"I've got a family emergency I have to attend to," he answered truthfully.

"Well it's going to have to wait," the doctor retorted. "We're monitoring you overnight to make sure the antibiotics have taken effect. You haven't given them enough time to kick in."

Elliot ignored him and began buttoning his collared shirt over the t-shirt he'd already pulled on. The previously ogling nurse's smile had become inverted.

"Sorry, but I'll be checking out early," he announced without feeling any remorse. If he had health issues he'd deal with them later. Right now he needed to find his son and his partner. He bent to slip on his socks and shoes.

"Don't you understand the risk you're taking?" the doctor questioned, not used to his patients arguing with him. "The Sepsis may not be out of your system yet. It could spread and…"

"And I don't care," Elliot interrupted harshly. "I'm going to get my son."

The doctor looked at him in confusion—not knowing the situation—but Eliot wasn't going to elaborate. He turned to Dickie and pointed at him to emphasize his next order.

"Take care of your sister."

Then he grabbed his coat and walked out of the room to the ramblings of the still protesting doctor.

***

"Detective Benson, I'm not sure this is the best idea."

Olivia glared at Karl, who stood before her, a stern expression on his face while he rubbed a hand over his stubble. It was obviously a bad nervous habit.

Another bad habit Karl had was questioning her judgment.

"If we swarm out there like you're suggesting, she's gonna panic and throw the kid into the river."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I've dealt with hostage situations before. Startled perps do crazy things when they know they're cornered."

This was different than Molly's Motel. Here Kathy had the opportunity to hurt Eli if she chose to. There hadn't been any handy weapons in the motel room. The river on the other hand was a mighty convenient way to get rid of someone that couldn't swim. But Olivia was _not_ going to let that happen.

"Going in alone is gonna give us the best chance of no one getting hurt," she reasoned. Karl looked like he was going to argue with her again, but she cut him off before he spoke. "If this Dave shows up, cuff him for conspiracy to commit kidnapping."

She knew it probably wouldn't hold in court, but they needed to keep Kathy's lover away from her and Eli if he showed up. It was already eight-fifteen and only one adult stood at the end of the pier beyond the warehouses where Olivia and the other officers had congregated. Either Dave—or whoever was meeting Kathy—was late, or she had been stood up. Olivia guessed the latter.

With her final orders given, Olivia turned and began walking toward the pier. The other four officers stayed back, lurking just around the corner of the nearest warehouse. They were close enough to offer backup if she should need it, but far enough away that Kathy wouldn't catch wind of their presence.

Even though her adrenaline rush was making her heart and lungs work overtime, Olivia's steps were steady and confident. White puffs of air dotted her progress along the concrete pier. Her leather jacket and sweater did little to keep the biting cold at bay, but the adrenaline kept her warm too.

Kathy heard the approaching footsteps and turned in the detective's direction. Olivia stopped moving forward when Kathy's smile dropped from her face.

"What're you doing here?" she asked, venom flowing from her question.

"I think you know," Olivia returned, assessing the situation and deciding how best to steer the conversation.

Eli was cradled against his mother's side and didn't seem to be injured. What concerned Olivia the most was that he was only wearing his cotton pajamas. Kathy hadn't taken the time or care to dress her son for the weather. By the fluorescent lighting coming from the warehouse behind her, she could see that the child's face was red from the wind and cold. He was crying and biting his ungloved fist, the other bare hand grabbing at Kathy's hair.

Mother and son were standing just a few feet from the edge of the pier, the rough waters of the wintry East River lapping at the side of the concrete structure. Only a waist-high wall offered some form of obstacle for Kathy should she choose to act rashly. She could easily throw Eli over the wall and into the water.

"Kathy," Olivia said, "back up and give Eli to me."

The blonde woman ignored her.

"He's not coming," she whispered, tears in her voice. "He's not coming to see his son."

Olivia was baffled for a moment. Kathy wanted to see Elliot? Then she remembered that there were two men she could be referring to.

"You mean Elliot?" she asked, sure that Kathy could hear the uncertainty in her question.

"Not him!" Kathy yelled, clearly upset that she had even mentioned her ex-husband.

Olivia wanted to keep her calm. She didn't want her stepping anywhere near the edge of the pier. She tried the other option of potential chromosome donors.

"Dave?"

"He's not coming," Kathy repeated almost chant-like. "He doesn't want us." The detective wondered how long she'd been standing there, telling herself that Dave wasn't coming.

The wind picked up, plastering Olivia's leather jacket to her back and blowing her hair in her eyes. Kathy swayed with the wind, taking another step closer to the water. Eli's dangling feet scraped the top of the wall. Olivia was tempted to call in her backup, but thought that would scare Kathy into dropping Eli.

"Elliot wants you," she lied quickly. "He wants you both." Her hope was that if Kathy thought Elliot wanted his son—which he most certainly did—she'd also think he wanted her. It was a bluff, but it was the best stall tactic that came to mind.

But Kathy was harder to fool then she suspected. She barked out a harsh laugh before speaking.

"He doesn't want _me_. He never even cared that I was _cheating_ on him."

That sent Olivia's mind reeling. "He knew?" she breathed. Dickie and Lizzie had told her Elliot was still in the dark about Kathy's transgressions.

"No," the blonde replied, sounding contemplative. "No, I don't think he knew. But he should've. I didn't exactly try to hide it."

She almost sounded as if she was bragging, and it drove Olivia mad with rage. The woman before her seemed to hold no remorse for her adultery against her husband. The idea that she could be so cavalier about her actions was sickening. She'd been married to Elliot for over twenty years, yet it seemed she had no loyalty to him.

But she wasn't going to call her out on her infidelity and risk her hurting Eli.

She also wouldn't consider that the child was the offspring of anyone but her partner.

With her gun still clutched in her hand—although not directly pointed at Kathy—Olivia told her to put Eli on the ground and back away. This needed to end.

Kathy was ruffled by the order. She started screaming at the detective. "No! I'm not giving him to you. You can't take _him_ away too!"

So Kathy _did _blame her for breaking up her and Elliot's marriage. Olivia didn't feel any sympathy for her, only anger.

Then Kathy pressed her body against the wall in front of her.

"Don't move," Olivia warned, her gun coming up slightly. "Stay where you are."

"You _stole_ Elliot from me," Kathy accused, shifting a sobbing Eli in her arms. "You can't have my son too."

To Olivia's horror, Kathy stretched out her arms and held Eli out over the choppy water. Now Olivia's gun was pointed at the monster that would consider tossing her child into the East River. Her first instinct was to plug her full of bullets, but that would cause her to drop the child. He was crying louder than ever and kicking his feet.

"Put him down!" Olivia commanded, unable to keep her voice even or her gun still because of her anger. "Don't think for a minute I won't shoot you."

Kathy had the audacity to laugh at her. "Oh, you're not fooling me, Olivia," she chuckled viciously. "If you shoot me, Eli goes for a swim. You wouldn't risk that. I know you."

Okay, so she'd called her bluff. She'd never fire her weapon if it put Eli in harm's way. Her last hope was to try and talk some sense into her. Play the guilt card.

"And I know you," Olivia said softly, her voice almost lost in the wind. "Kathy, I know you'd never hurt one of your own children. Your own son."

At this point Olivia wasn't certain of anything concerning this woman, but she prayed for a little divine intervention. When she saw the panic and the uncertainty in the woman's eyes—the fear Olivia's statement evoked—she knew her prayer had been answered.

"It's alright Kathy. You can fix this. Just put Eli down," she instructed, trying to sound comforting. She dared to take a few steps closer to the pair, closing the distance to within fifteen feet.

There were tears in Kathy's eyes now and her arms were shaking from holding the child out in front of her. "Will they forgive me?" she whispered.

Olivia decided to lie again. Tell her what she wanted to hear. "If you let them. Lizzie's gonna be fine. And Eli won't even remember this happening. C'mon, put him down Kathy. End this the right way."

"The right way," she echoed, her voice shaky and eyes hollow.

Slowly she stepped back and lowered Eli to the ground, where she crouched for several seconds to kiss his head and whisper her apologies. Eli's cries intensified at being placed on the cold ground. Olivia was sure he was freezing.

As badly as she wanted to rush to the child's side, Olivia still had an emotionally unstable woman—who could jump into the river herself—to deal with.

"Okay, get on your knees and put your hands on your head," she ordered, gun still aimed at her.

Once again, Kathy ignored her instructions. She put her hand in her coat pocket and Olivia thought she was going for a gun. Her trigger finger tightened but she held back.

"Hands where I can see them!" she shouted.

Kathy's hand reappeared, this time holding a paring knife. Olivia didn't have the time to contemplate where she had gotten the weapon. She was too busy screaming at the other woman.

"Drop it!"

Olivia could feel the backup officers closing in on them. They were still at a respectable distance, but were close enough to react should anything serious happen. Like Kathy stabbing herself.

Somewhere in the distance she heard more sirens. EMS most likely.

"Have to end it," Kathy muttered, her eyes unfocused but actively darting around the pier.

"Drop the knife!" Olivia warned one last time.

But Kathy refused to listen. She raised the knife with her right hand and Olivia knew where she was going to cut.

The neck.

Right across the throat.

Two rounds blasted from the end of her gun and found their intended targets.

One to the right shoulder.

One to the left thigh.

The knife dropped to the ground before Kathy crashed to her knees, then fell onto her side, crying out in surprise and pain.

Olivia and the other officers rushed forward. The paring knife was pushed out of Kathy's reach while another officer radioed in the EMTs. Karl secured Kathy and read her the Miranda Rights while another officer put pressure on the non-life-threatening gunshot wounds.

Olivia scooped Eli up in her arms, wrapping him in her leather jacket which she'd removed.

"Shh….It's okay now little man," she cooed, securing the jacket as tightly as possible. His skin was freezing to the touch and she practically crushed him against her body.

From the ground a weak voice reached her.

"You s-shot me."

She sounded like she was in shock with a good dose of disbelief thrown in. Olivia had nothing to say to the woman. In truth, Olivia had held back. She could have shot to kill. Instead, she'd opted for non-lethal shots. Kathy was lucky she'd been standing as far away as she had, otherwise she might not be talking right now.

Before Kathy could say anything else, two EMTs arrived with a gurney. Olivia nodded to Karl who took the gesture as an order to take over, and then she began walking back toward the dock.

The person standing at the end of the pier made her do a double take.

"What're you doing here?" she asked, her throat suddenly thick.

It had to be the way he was looking at her. That was what was affecting her speech so terribly.

He didn't look angry at all.

Instead he looked relived, proud even.

And what was making his eyes shine so brightly?

Love? Was that what she was seeing? _Love?_

Elliot didn't say anything as she approached. When she stopped walking, he stepped forward, draping a police blanket over her shoulders. Then he placed his warm hands on either side of her face and kissed her forehead. He wanted to kiss her on the lips, but thought she'd be mortified if he chose to advertize their recently developed intimacy to the officers and other response teams around them. And he was not going to scare her off that way.

His lips lingered on her cold skin as long as he dared and then he placed a kiss on his son's head.

When he looked up at her, there were tears sliding out of her eyes and down her skin.

"He's gonna be fine, El," she whispered. Elliot wasn't even sure she knew she was crying, her voice was so calm. Maybe her face was too numb from the wind to feel anything.

"Because of you," he responded. "Thank you."

He was going to give her a hug to reinforce his gratitude, but she pushed his son into his chest instead. Eli had calmed considerably but was still softly whining from the cold.

"El, there's something that Kathy said…did…" Olivia didn't know how to tell him that Eli might not be his. She didn't even _want_ to tell him, but her conscience would never let her be at peace until she had revealed the information. And she knew that if they were going to have a relationship, something as big as this couldn't be kept a secret.

"She cheated on you, El. For a while. And Eli…"

Elliot brushed a hand over her teary cheek when she stopped speaking. He knew what she was trying to tell him.

"Liv, he's mine."

"But—"

"I knew she was cheating. I didn't trust her when she told me Eli was my son," Elliot confessed. "I had a paternity test done."

That pronouncement made her smile but her tears flowed more freely.

"He's mine," he repeated.

Before either of the detectives could say anything else, Kathy's gurney rolled by and toward the ambulance. Karl followed the procession and stopped by Olivia's side.

"Detective Benson, I'm going to need your gun. For IAB," he clarified.

Olivia knew the drill and released her weapon without remark. After Karl left, Elliot stepped closer to her.

"C'mon, let's go back to Bellevue. I want Eli checked out and the twins are still there."

She nodded and started heading in the direction of the squad car when Elliot placed his hand on the small of her back. He steered her to the left where she saw his car parked.

"Car seat," he reminded her, nodding down at Eli.

Olivia gave him a small smile. "Okay, but I'm still driving."

"I can drive. I got here, didn't I?" he replied.

"Yes, you did. But _I'm _driving," she insisted. Her voice had returned to its normal pitch and her tears had stopped.

"You sure?" He wanted to make sure she was okay. Shooting Kathy and saving Eli might have left her more shaken than she was admitting, although she appeared unaffected.

"El, you just had surgery on your arm. I'm driving."

Her words made him smile and gave him the confidence that she was sound of mind to drive to the hospital.

"Well, okay then," he said, relinquishing the keys and tossing them to her over the top of the car before getting into the passenger seat.

***

Several minutes of tense silence passed between them once they were on the road. Olivia was running through the events that had just happened. Elliot was trying to fight the pain in his shoulder. Holding his son had taken more strength from him than he would like to admit. The pain wasn't unbearable at this point, but he was sure it would be if he didn't get some more medication soon.

He decided to start up a conversation to distract him and bring his partner back to the present.

"Why didn't you shoot to kill?" he asked. It probably wasn't the best thing to ask her, but he wanted to know.

"I wanted to," she admitted after a lengthy pause.

"I wouldn't have held it against you."

She wasn't consoled by his announcement. "I couldn't take the risk of you hating me more."

"'More?'"

Olivia sighed. "I should've told you about all this as soon as I found out. But…I couldn't. There wasn't time."

"I know," he responded. Elliot had come to terms with this on the way to the pier. All he wanted was his loved ones to be safe. "You did what you had to do. You kept Eli safe."

"I would do anything to keep him safe. _Any_ of your kids," she stressed.

He appreciated her vehemence. "What about me?" he joked, although there was a seriousness underlying his question.

She glanced in his direction before returning her gaze to the road. A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Yeah, even you," she said.

"Nice to know you care."

"I'll always care."

Those words hung in the air until they felt like tangible objects. Elliot wanted to reach out and extract their true meaning, but instead he just stared at her, a grin on his face.

Olivia's mouth was slightly open, as if she wanted to say more. It was the longest silence he'd ever experienced but it could've only spanned a few seconds. Half a minute at the most. Elliot was afraid to release the air he held in his lungs. The slightest disturbance to her thought process might scare her off.

The patient waiting he'd promised her was nearly killing him. He felt suffocated by her continued silence. Then again, he still wasn't breathing.

Her lips moved, forming some phrase that Elliot recognized, but he didn't hear anything. Whether that was because she had barely whispered or that the heartbeat pounding in his ears made them feel like they were stuffed with cotton, he didn't know.

"What?" he croaked, his chest constricting with pain caused by his spike in blood pressure and the anxious excitement from her unheard words.

"I love you," she repeated a little louder, sounding almost angry by her revelation.

His heart rate increased even more and his smile turned into a beaming grin that he couldn't have stopped if he tried. But he had to know this was as real for her as it was for him. That she wasn't just saying it to take his mind off all the shit that had happened to him lately.

"One more time," he requested.

As his smile grew, her frown deepened.

"Damnit, Elliot. I. Love. You!"

Olivia brooded over her words even as Elliot seemed to celebrate them. Each time she glanced in his direction he was smiling. That stupid, happy, should-be-contagious smile that made her want to slap him.

Didn't he realize how much trouble they were in? Yeah, they loved each other. Wonderful. But so many things stood in the way of them being together.

The time ahead of them was hardly going to be filled with roses and valentines. At least the immediate future.

They had to come up with a game plan. She felt like they were two people facing a formidable army. The odds were not in their favor.

Their opponents took many forms.

Work. Kathy. His kids. Work.

She let out a groan. "What're we gonna do?" she commented more than asked.

It was then she realized Elliot hadn't said anything in the interim of her profession of love and her question. She glanced at him again and knew something was wrong. He was still smiling, but his eyes told her he was in pain.

"What is it?" she asked quickly.

He noted the panic in her voice. He didn't want her to worry about him. Not now. This was supposed to be a happy moment.

"El?" she prompted.

Another stab of pain ran through his chest and arm and he rubbed his bandaged shoulder with his right hand.

"Just hurry up and get to the hospital," he told her.

"Why?" More panic sounded in her voice.

He tired smiling for her benefit but it turned into a grimace as his shoulder screamed in pain.

Elliot took a needed breath then said, "I think I'm having a heart attack."

***

"I thought we had a deal."

Elliot opened his eyes and saw her leaning against the door frame of his hospital room. Her eyelids were half-closed and her hair was still windswept from the pier. Her sweater was rumpled and sported a brown stain near its bottom. She looked exhausted and he knew he was partly, if not mainly, to blame.

"What deal was that?"

"The one where you promised to stay outta this place for at least a month," she responded.

"Oh yeah. Sorry," he apologized.

She strolled to the side of his bed with long, tired strides. It had been several hours since they had pulled up to the emergency room entrance of Bellevue Hospital and he had been taken away by the doctors. Once they had realized he wasn't having a heart attack, they had hooked him up to an IV for fluids and a heart monitor. His doctor had left his room threatening to strap him to the bed if he tried to leave again. Before Olivia had been allowed to see him, the medication he'd been given had put him to sleep.

He glanced up at the clock on the wall and saw that it was after two o'clock in the morning.

"Can I make it up to you somehow?" he asked.

"You mean besides staying out of the hospital?"

"Yeah, besides that. I owe you."

She smiled while she thought. "What'd you have in mind?"

Elliot returned her smile. His eyes fell on the coffee stain on the hem of her shirt. He guessed she had needed an energy boost after her adrenaline rush had worn off.

"Well, it looks like you need to do some laundry. I'd be more than happy to help," he offered.

His eyes glinted with boyish mischief. Olivia's smile grew at his suggestion. "The doctors said you need to take it easy. I think _laundry_ might be overdoing it just now."

"Oh yeah? What else did those kooky doctors say?" he asked.

She sank down into the mattress of the hospital bed. As she spoke, her hand found his and their fingers stroked and played with one another, happy to have an open connection again.

"Well, Lizzie has a mild concussion, but she's being released as we speak. Dickie's watching Eli sleep while they wait for their sister. I was just getting ready to drive them home." She paused to sigh. "And I even heard Kathy will survive. She only suffered minor injuries."

"After you shot her twice?" Elliot asked.

She laughed. "You sound as disappointed as I am."

"Is she going to be prosecuted?"

Olivia nodded. "Kim's drawing up the kidnapping and endangerment charges now."

"Has she lawyered up?"

"With some no-name attorney. Kim tells me she's gonna try for the mental illness defense. She's claiming its late-onset of postpartum depression."

The announcement made him angry. "It'll never work," he huffed.

"Kim's gonna get Huang to talk to her, but I think you're right," she offered, "It'll never work."

The atmosphere in the room had fallen. Elliot's fingers had stilled but Olivia's continued to slowly trace the lines on the inside of his palm.

Because she couldn't think of any other way to break the uncomfortable silence, Olivia whispered, "I love you."

Before he said anything, there was a spike in the heart monitor and the beeping sound increased. Elliot chuckled lightly and Olivia frowned.

"Maybe I shouldn't say that around you 'til you're all healed up," she said seriously.

"No, I think I need to hear it more."

"How do you figure that? You want another heart attack scare?"

Elliot continued to smile and it drove her crazy.

"No. But I think the reason I get so excited is that I love hearing you say it. Maybe I just need to get used to it."

"Oh really?" she said, sounding skeptical. "I love you."

As soon as the words left her mouth the monitor beeped again. Elliot smiled guiltily and she couldn't help returning the expression.

"There goes that theory," she joked.

"Aw c'mon. I wasn't prepared," he whined. "Try it again."

Olivia decided to give into his childish antics but she chose to play with him a little. Shifting her position, she placed a hand on either side of his body, leaning in until their foreheads were touching.

Looking into his gloriously blue eyes she slowly whispered, "Elliot, I love you."

Once again, the beeping increased, faster than ever. With a devilish grin she pulled back, giving him a quick peck on the tip of his nose.

"Cheater," he breathed as the beeping slowed gradually. "But I guess it doesn't lie."

"That thing's better than a polygraph test," she replied, nodding in the machine's direction.

"I'd like to see how you'd score," he commented. "Remind me to hook you up to one someday."

"You don't have to do that."

Without warning she picked up his hand and slipped it under the neckline of her sweater. She pressed it to her chest, just over her heart. Her warm flesh felt wonderful underneath his hand.

"Say it," she whispered, her eyes closed.

Elliot was touched by the gesture. He could faintly feel her heartbeat pulsating beneath his palm.

"I love you," he said in a hushed voice.

The steady beat he felt increased suddenly. So she _was_ just as affected by him as he was by her.

"You _never_ have to question how much you mean to me," she told him as she opened her eyes and lowered his hand without letting go of it.

"Move in with me."

The sudden request threw her off guard.

"For how long?" she finally managed to ask. She needed to know if this was going to be a permanent thing or if it was just until he was recovered more fully from his infection.

"Uh, how about forever?"

Although it was the response she had wanted to hear, she wouldn't let herself get too happy yet. There was a lot that had to be sorted out before they could even consider moving in together as a possibility. One thing stood out above everything else. Work.

"What about the unit?" she questioned.

"I'm only a few years away from getting my pension. I could transfer to a desk job in another department."

"And you'd be happy?" she asked, truly concerned.

"As long as I have you. I know how much Special Victims means to you. I'd never ask you to give it up."

His thoughtfulness was humbling. She'd be lost without her job, but just as lost without him. The thought that she could have both and be happy was something she'd never let herself think about because she hadn't wanted to give herself unnecessary heartache.

"What about your kids?" she asked, moving on to the next issue before she could get her hopes up. "Will they be okay with me moving in?"

He smiled at her concern. "You know, I love that you care about what my kids think."

Elliot leaned forward and gently brought her head within inches of his. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip before closing the space between them. Just as their lips skimmed across each other, the door opened.

"Oh, sorry," a male voice mumbled.

Olivia's head snapped back from Elliot's, a blush coloring her cheeks. It was the second time they'd been caught by Elliot's son and the feeling was just as humiliating. Olivia moved back, putting some space between them, but Elliot kept his hand in hers, denying her wiggling fingers the escape they sought.

He signaled his children to enter the room. Dickie walked in, carrying Eli on his hip and Lizzie followed behind her brothers. She looked tired and the bruise on the top of her head had darkened, but otherwise she looked healthy.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," Dickie apologized.

"You didn't interrupt anything," Elliot replied.

"Uh huh. Sure," Lizzie teased, a knowing smile on her face. Her father had to remind himself that she was sixteen and had probably kissed a boy or two.

"We were just discussing some things," Olivia put in.

The teens looked unconvinced by her cover up. They exchanged a look.

Then Dickie turned to his father saying, "Ya know, it's okay if you kiss her."

"Oh really?" Elliot quipped, humored that his son was giving him the go ahead. He smiled while looking at Olivia. He cupped her face with his hand and asked, "Does that answer your question?"

There was no doubt in his mind that his kids would be okay with her moving in, and he saw in her eyes that she understood that too.

She nodded briefly then asked, "You're all sure we can kiss?" It was her way of letting the kids decide.

Lizzie let out an exaggerated sigh. "Just do it already!" she exclaimed.

Neither of them needed more encouragement and they met each other halfway. The kiss was tender, filled with the love they felt for each other and the love that surrounded them.

"Okay, keep it PG," Dickie remarked when he saw a tongue. "We've got a kid present." He bounced his younger brother on his hip, making Eli giggle in delight.

Elliot smiled and felt Olivia's grin against his mouth. He pulled away with a final peck.

"Guess we're gonna have to come up with a warning system to keep the kids out when we're _busy_," he mumbled to her.

Lizzie's sharp ears overheard his suggestion. "Ew Dad. Too much info," she said with a laugh.

Her brother joined in and soon the whole hospital room was shaking with the sounds of their mirth.

They already sounded like a happy family.

* * *

End.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I had to end with a happy feeling. Too much drama these last two chapters lol. Hope you were happy with the way I left things. If you were, tell me. If you weren't _tell me! _Any and all comments are welcome and appreciated more than you know. Thank you again for reading, and thank you even more if you leave me a final review! :D**

**Some other stuff: I said that I had other stories in the works, but I wanted to say that I won't post until sometime in February. I want to get most of them written before I post so I don't leave you with long gaps between updates. You're nice enough to read. I should be nice enough to get things up quickly.**

**Also, if anyone is interested in being a beta (largely for story flow and proofing) please send me an e-mail or PM. I can tell you more about what it is you'll be reading, and you can decide to beta it or not. :)**

**Thanks again.**

**--Trish**


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